The Ghost-dance religion and the Sioux outbreak of 1890 (part 3 of 4)

Appendix

THE MORMONS AND THE INDIANS

While the Indian excitement was at its height in 1892, a curious pamphlet was published anonymously at Salt Lake City in connection with a proposed series of lectures, from which we make some extracts for the light they give on the Mormon attitude toward the Indians. The pamphlet is headed, “The Mormons have stepped down and out of Celestial Government—the American Indians have stepped up and into Celestial Government.” It begins by stating that the Messiah came to His people at the time appointed of the Father—March, 1890—notwithstanding the assertion in the Deseret Evening News, made January, 1892: “1890 has passed, and no Messiah has come.” It goes on to say:

“1891 has passed, and no pruning of the vineyard.” The vineyard of the Lord is the house of Israel.—Isa. 5:7. In the part of the vineyard the American Indians, descendants of the righteous branch of Joseph, who were led to the Western Continent or hemisphere—Zion—we find the vine, the stone-power of the Latter Days. Ps. 80.

The celestial prophet, seer, and revelator, Joseph Smith, jr., prophesied on the 2d of April, 1843, that the Messiah would reveal himself to man in mortality in 1890. Doctrine and Covenants, 130, 15, 17, which reads: “I was once praying very earnestly to know the time of the coming of the Son of Man, when I heard a voice speak the following: ‘Joseph, my son, if thou livest until thou art eighty-five years old, thou shalt see the face of the Son of Man.’”

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Five years later (than 1882) the sign that was to usher in the work of the Father was given to the American Indians, while March, 1890, witnesses the organization of a church under the restored order, where twelve disciples were chosen and ordained, whose first allegiance is given irrevocably to the Lord God, whereas that of the Celestial Church is given to the government fostering it.

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The following seven signs were to precede the fullness of the Gentiles upon the land of America; Zion, the time, place, and parties given with each. [The first, second, and third “signs” are omitted here.]

4. When the Bible and Book of Mormon become one in the hands of the Messiah. Ezk. 37:19; III Nephi, 21:1–7. In 1887, sixty years after the plates were delivered to Joseph Smith, jr., the Book of Mormon in Spanish was delivered to the American Indians, with the promise to those who are identified with the Gentiles that if they will not harden their hearts, but will repent and know the true points of my doctrine they shall be numbered with my covenant people, the Branch of Joseph. Doctrine and Covenant, 19:59–62; 20:8–17; III Nephi, 21:1–7.

5. The coming of the Messiah. Three years later, March, 1890, the people of God, who were notified by the three Nephites, met at Walkers lake, Esmeralda county, Nevada, where a dispensation of the Celestial kingdom of God—the gospel in the covenant of consecration, a perfect oneness in all things, temporal and spiritual—was given unto them. Twelve disciples were ordained, not by angels or men, but by the Messiah, in the presence of hundreds, representing scores of tribes or nations, who saw his face, heard and understood his voice as on the day of pentecost. Acts 2, also fulfilling sec. 90:9, 10, 11 of Doctrine and Covenant. Ezk. 20:33–37.

6. The Fulness of the Gentiles. In 1492, the Lord God let His vineyard to the nations of the Gentiles, to punish His people the Branch of Joseph for 400 years (Gen. 15:13), bringing the fulness of the Gentiles the end of their rule over the American Indians. October, 1892, Rom. II: 25–26; Gen. 50:25; New Trans. Matt. 21:33–41.

7. The Pruning of the Vineyard. The husbandmen upon this land began the last pruning of the vineyard in 1891. Prominent among which stands our government in fulfilling Matt. 21:33–41, saying, let us kill the heirs and hold the inheritance, as shown in the massacre of Wounded Knee; the butchery of Sitting Bull; the imprisonment of Short Bull and others; the breaking up of reservations, and the attempts to destroy the treaty stipulations above mentioned by forcing the mark of the Beast, citizenship and statehood, upon the American Indians, which will ultimately terminate in a war of extermination. Isa. 10:24–27; Dan. 2:34; Isa. 14:21.

According to the astronomical, prophetic, and historical evidence found in the Bible, Book of Mormon, and Doctrine and Covenants for the redemption of Zion and the restoration of Israel, there are seven celestial keys of powers to be used which can not be handled by apostles, prophets, or angels. They can only be handled by the Messiah and his Father.

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2. The key of power that restores the heirs, the American Indians, to their own lands consecrating to them the wealth of the Gentiles.

3. The key of power that turns away ungodliness from Jacob (the American Indians) enabling them to build the temple on the spot pointed out by the finger of God (Independence, Jackson County, Missouri), on which the true sign of Israel is to rest, the glory of the living God of the Hebrews, the cloud by day and the pillar of fire by night by the close of this generation, 1896.

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On and after July 10, 1892, free lectures illustrated by figures, will be given weekly, on Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday, from 6.30 to 8.30 p. m. (weather permitting), at the book stand in the Nineteenth Ward, opposite Margett’s Brewery, No. 312 North Second West.

First. On the coming of the Messiah to the Hebrews, at the sacrifice of Esau, near the close of the 400-year bondage of Jacob in the morning of the Abrahamic Covenant, B. C. 1491.

Second. On the coming of the Messiah to the Jews, at the Meridian sacrifice of Jacob at the close of the last 1921 years of the covenant, the year one A. D.

Third. On the coming of the Messiah to the American Indians, the remnants, at the evening sacrifice of Esau, near the expiration of the evening bondage of Jacob of 400 years, 1892, in the last 430 years of the covenant.

PORCUPINE’S ACCOUNT OF THE MESSIAH

The following statement was made to Major Carroll, in command of Camp Crook, at Tongue River agency, Montana, June 15, 1890, and transmitted through the War Department to the Indian Office:

In November last [1889] I left the reservation with two other Cheyennes. I went through [Fort] Washakie and took the Union Pacific railroad at Rawlins. We got on early in the morning about breakfast, rode all day on the railroad, and about dark reached a fort [Bridger?]. I stayed there two days, and then took a passenger train, and the next morning got to Fort Hall. I found some lodges of Snakes and Bannocks there. I saw the agent here, and he told me I could stay at the agency, but the chief of the Bannocks who was there took me to his camp near by. The Bannocks told me they were glad to see a Cheyenne and that we ought to make a treaty with the Bannocks.

The chief told me he had been to Washington and had seen the President, and that we ought all to be friends with the whites and live at peace with them and with each other. We talked these matters over for ten days. The agent then sent for me and some of the Bannocks and Shoshones, and asked me where I was going. I told him I was just traveling to meet other Indians and see other countries; that my people were at peace with the whites, and I thought I could travel anywhere I wished. He asked me why I did not have a pass. I said because my agent would not give me one. He said he was glad to see me anyhow, and that the whites and Indians were all friends. Then he asked me where I wanted a pass to. I told him I wanted to go further and some Bannocks and Shoshones wanted to go along. He gave passes—five of them—to the chiefs of the three parties. We took the railroad to a little town near by, and then took a narrow-gauge road. We went on this, riding all night at a very fast rate of speed, and came to a town on a big lake [Ogden or Salt Lake City]. We stayed there one day, taking the cars at night, rode all night, and the next morning about 9 oclock saw a settlement of Indians. We traveled south, going on a narrow-gauge road. We got off at this Indian town. The Indians here were different from any Indians I ever saw. The women and men were dressed in white people’s clothes, the women having their hair banged. These Indians had their faces painted white with black spots. We stayed with these people all day. We took the same road at night and kept on. We traveled all night, and about daylight we saw a lot of houses, and they told us there were a lot more Indians there; so we got off, and there is where we saw Indians living in huts of grass [tulé?]. We stopped here and got something to eat. There were whites living near by. We got on the cars again at night, and during the night we got off among some Indians, who were fish-eaters [Paiute]. We stayed among the Fish-eaters till morning, and then got into a wagon with the son of the chief of the Fish-eaters, and we arrived about noon at an agency on a big river. There was also a big lake near the agency.

The agent asked us where we were from and said we were a long ways from home, and that he would write to our agent and let him know we were all right. From this agency we went back to the station, and they told us there were some more Indians to the south. One of the chiefs of the Fish-eaters then furnished us with four wagons. We traveled all day, and then came to another railroad. We left our wagons here and took the railroad, the Fish-eaters telling us there were some more Indians along the railroad who wanted to see us. We took this railroad about 2 oclock and about sun down got to another agency, where there were more Fish-eaters. [From diagrams drawn and explanations given of them in addition to the foregoing, there seems to be no doubt that the lakes visited are Pyramid and Walker lakes, western Nevada, and the agencies those of the same name.]

They told us they had heard from the Shoshone agency that the people in this country were all bad people, but that they were good people there. All the Indians from the Bannock agency down to where I finally stopped danced this dance [referring to the late religious dances at the Cheyenne agency], the whites often dancing it themselves. [It will be recollected that he traveled constantly through the Mormon country.] I knew nothing about this dance before going. I happened to run across it, that is all. I will tell you about it. [Here all the Indian auditors removed their hats in token that the talk to follow was to be on a religious subject.] I want you all to listen to this, so that there will be no mistake. There is no harm in what I am to say to anyone. I heard this where I met my friends in Nevada. It is a wonder you people never heard this before. In the dance we had there [Nevada] the whites and Indians danced together. I met there a great many kinds of people, but they all seemed to know all about this religion. The people there seemed all to be good. I never saw any drinking or fighting or bad conduct among them. They treated me well on the cars, without pay. They gave me food without charge, and I found that this was a habit among them toward their neighbors. I thought it strange that the people there should have been so good, so different from those here.

What I am going to say is the truth. The two men sitting near me were with me, and will bear witness that I speak the truth. I and my people have been living in ignorance until I went and found out the truth. All the whites and Indians are brothers, I was told there. I never knew this before.

The Fish-eaters near Pyramid lake told me that Christ had appeared on earth again. They said Christ knew he was coming; that eleven of his children were also coming from a far land. It appeared that Christ had sent for me to go there, and that was why unconsciously I took my journey. It had been foreordained. Christ had summoned myself and others from all heathen tribes, from two to three or four from each of fifteen or sixteen different tribes. There were more different languages than I ever heard before and I did not understand any of them. They told me when I got there that my great father was there also, but did not know who he was. The people assembled called a council, and the chief’s son went to see the Great Father [messiah], who sent word to us to remain fourteen days in that camp and that he would come to see us. He sent me a small package of something white to eat that I did not know the name of. There were a great many people in the council, and this white food was divided among them. The food was a big white nut. Then I went to the agency at Walker lake and they told us Christ would be there in two days. At the end of two days, on the third morning, hundreds of people gathered at this place. They cleared off a place near the agency in the form of a circus ring and we all gathered there. This space was perfectly cleared of grass, etc. We waited there till late in the evening anxious to see Christ. Just before sundown I saw a great many people, mostly Indians, coming dressed in white men’s clothes. The Christ was with them. They all formed in this ring around it. They put up sheets all around the circle, as they had no tents. Just after dark some of the Indians told me that the Christ [Father] was arrived. I looked around to find him, and finally saw him sitting on one side of the ring. They all started toward him to see him. They made a big fire to throw light on him. I never looked around, but went forward, and when I saw him I bent my head. I had always thought the Great Father was a white man, but this man looked like an Indian. He sat there a long time and nobody went up to speak to him. He sat with his head bowed all the time. After awhile he rose and said he was very glad to see his children. “I have sent for you and am glad to see you. I am going to talk to you after awhile about your relatives who are dead and gone. My children, I want you to listen to all I have to say to you. I will teach you, too, how to dance a dance, and I want you to dance it. Get ready for your dance and then, when the dance is over, I will talk to you.” He was dressed in a white coat with stripes. The rest of his dress was a white man’s except that he had on a pair of moccasins. Then he commenced our dance, everybody joining in, the Christ singing while we danced. We danced till late in the night, when he told us we had danced enough.

The next morning, after breakfast was over, we went into the circle and spread canvas over it on the ground, the Christ standing in the midst of us. He told us he was going away that day, but would be back that next morning and talk to us.

In the night when I first saw him I thought he was an Indian, but the next day when I could see better he looked different. He was not so dark as an Indian, nor so light as a white man. He had no beard or whiskers, but very heavy eyebrows. He was a good-looking man. We were crowded up very close. We had been told that nobody was to talk, and even if we whispered the Christ would know it. I had heard that Christ had been crucified, and I looked to see, and I saw a scar on his wrist and one on his face, and he seemed to be the man. I could not see his feet. He would talk to us all day.

That evening we all assembled again to see him depart. When we were assembled, he began to sing, and he commenced to tremble all over, violently for a while, and then sat down. We danced all that night, the Christ lying down beside us apparently dead.

The next morning when we went to eat breakfast, the Christ was with us. After breakfast four heralds went around and called out that the Christ was back with us and wanted to talk with us. The circle was prepared again. The people assembled, and Christ came among us and sat down. He said he wanted to talk to us again and for us to listen. He said: “I am the man who made everything you see around you. I am not lying to you, my children. I made this earth and everything on it. I have been to heaven and seen your dead friends and have seen my own father and mother. In the beginning, after God made the earth, they sent me back to teach the people, and when I came back on earth the people were afraid of me and treated me badly. This is what they did to me [showing his scars]. I did not try to defend myself. I found my children were bad, so went back to heaven and left them. I told them that in so many hundred years I would come back to see my children. At the end of this time I was sent back to try to teach them. My father told me the earth was getting old and worn out, and the people getting bad, and that I was to renew everything as it used to be, and make it better.”

He told us also that all our dead were to be resurrected; that they were all to come back to earth, and that as the earth was too small for them and us, he would do away with heaven, and make the earth itself large enough to contain us all; that we must tell all the people we meet about these things. He spoke to us about fighting, and said that was bad, and we must keep from it; that the earth was to be all good hereafter, and we must all be friends with one another. He said that in the fall of the year the youth of all the good people would be renewed, so that nobody would be more than 40 years old, and that if they behaved themselves well after this the youth of everyone would be renewed in the spring. He said if we were all good he would send people among us who could heal all our wounds and sickness by mere touch, and that we would live forever. He told us not to quarrel, or fight, nor strike each other, nor shoot one another; that the whites and Indians were to be all one people. He said if any man disobeyed what he ordered, his tribe would be wiped from the face of the earth; that we must believe everything he said, and that we must not doubt him, or say he lied; that if we did, he would know it; that he would know our thoughts and actions, in no matter what part of the world we might be.

When I heard this from the Christ, and came back home to tell it to my people, I thought they would listen. Where I went to there were lots of white people, but I never had one of them say an unkind word to me. I thought all of your people knew all of this I have told you of, but it seems you do not.

Ever since the Christ I speak of talked to me I have thought what he said was good. I see nothing bad in it. When I got back, I knew my people were bad, and had heard nothing of all this, so I got them together and told them of it and warned them to listen to it for their own good. I talked to them for four nights and five days. I told them just what I have told you here today. I told them what I said were the words of God Almighty, who was looking down on them. I wish some of you had been up in our camp here to have heard my words to the Cheyennes. The only bad thing that there has been in it at all was this: I had just told my people that the Christ would visit the sins of any Indian upon the whole tribe, when the recent trouble [killing of Ferguson] occurred. If any one of you think I am not telling the truth, you can go and see this man I speak of for yourselves. I will go with you, and I would like one or two of my people who doubt me to go with me.

The Christ talked to us all in our respective tongues. You can see this man in your sleep any time you want after you have seen him and shaken hands with him once. Through him you can go to heaven and meet your friends. Since my return I have seen him often in my sleep. About the time the soldiers went up the Rosebud I was lying in my lodge asleep, when this man appeared and told me that the Indians had gotten into trouble, and I was frightened. The next night he appeared to me and told me that everything would come out all right.

THE GHOST DANCE AMONG THE SIOUX

The following was written originally in the Teton Dakota dialect by George Sword, an Ogalala Sioux Indian, formerly captain of the Indian police at Pine Ridge agency and now judge of the Indian court. It was translated by an Indian for Miss Emma C. Sickels and is published by her courtesy. The copy of the original Sioux manuscript is in the archives of the Bureau of Ethnology:

In the story of ghost dancing, the Ogalala heard that the Son of God was truly on earth in the west from their country. This was in the year 1889. The first people knew about the messiah to be on earth were the Shoshoni and Arapaho. So in 1889 Good Thunder with four or five others visited the place where Son of God said to be. These people went there without permission. They said the messiah was there at the place, but he was there to help the Indians and not the whites; so this made the Indians happy to find out this. Good Thunder, Cloud Horse, Yellow Knife, and Short Bull visited the place again in 1890 and saw the messiah. Their story of visit to the messiah is as follows:

“From the country where the Arapaho and Shoshoni we start in the direction of northwest in train for five nights and arrived at the foot of the Rocky mountains. Here we saw him and also several tribes of Indians. The people said that the messiah will come at a place in the woods where the place was prepare for him. When we went to the place a smoke descended from heaven to the place where he was to come. When the smoke disappeared, there was a man of about forty, which was the Son of God. The man said:”

“‘My grandchildren! I am glad you have come far away to see your relatives. This are your people who have come back from your country.’ When he said he want us to go with him, we looked and we saw a land created across the ocean on which all the nations of Indians were coming home, but, as the messiah looked at the land which was created and reached across the ocean, again disappeared, saying that it was not time for that to take place. The messiah then gave to Good Thunder some paints—Indian paint and a white paint—a green grass [sagebrush twigs?]; and said, ‘My grandchildren, when you get home, go to farming and send all your children to school. And on way home if you kill any buffalo cut the head, the tail, and the four feet and leave them, and that buffalo will come to live again. When the soldiers of the white people chief want to arrest me, I shall stretch out my arms, which will knock them to nothingness, or, if not that, the earth will open and swallow them in. My father commanded me to visit the Indians on a purpose. I have came to the white people first, but they not good. They killed me, and you can see the marks of my wounds on my feet, my hands, and on my back. My father has given you life—your old life—and you have come to see your friends, but you will not take me home with you at this time. I want you to tell when you get home your people to follow my examples. Any one Indian does not obey me and tries to be on white’s side will be covered over by a new land that is to come over this old one. You will, all the people, use the paints and grass I give you. In the spring when the green grass comes, your people who have gone before you will come back, and you shall see your friends then, for you have come to my call.’”

The people from every tipi send for us to visit them. They are people who died many years ago. Chasing Hawk, who died not long ago, was there, and we went to his tipi. He was living with his wife, who was killed in war long ago. They live in a buffalo skin tipi—a very large one—and he wanted all his friends to go there to live. A son of Good Thunder who died in war long ago was one who also took us to his tipi so his father saw him. When coming we come to a herd of buffaloes. We killed one and took everything except the four feet, head, and tail, and when we came a little ways from it there was the buffaloes come to life again and went off. This was one of the messiah’s word came to truth. The messiah said, “I will short your journey when you feel tired of the long ways, if you call upon me.” This we did when we were tired. The night came upon us, we stopped at a place, and we called upon the messiah to help us, because we were tired of long journey. We went to sleep and in the morning we found ourselves at a great distance from where we stopped.

The people came back here and they got the people loyal to the government, and those not favor of the whites held a council. The agent’s soldiers were sent after them and brought Good Thunder and two others to the agency and they were confined to the prison. They were asked by the agent and Captain Sword whether they saw the Son of God and whether they hold councils over their return from visit, but Good Thunder refused to say “yes.” They were confined in the prison for two days, and upon their promising not to hold councils about their visit they were released. They went back to the people and told them about their trouble with the agent. Then they disperse without a council.

In the following spring the people at Pine Ridge agency began to gather at the White Clay creek for councils. Just at this time Kicking Bear, from Cheyenne River agency, went on a visit to the Arapaho and said that the Arapaho there have ghost dancing. He said that people partaking in dance would get crazy and die, then the messiah is seen and all the ghosts. When they die they see strange things, they see their relatives who died long before. They saw these things when they died in ghost dance and came to life again. The person dancing becomes dizzy and finally drop dead, and the first thing they saw is an eagle comes to them and carried them to where the messiah is with his ghosts. The man said this:

The persons in the ghost dancing are all joined hands. A man stands and then a woman, so in that way forming a very large circle. They dance around in the circle in a continuous time until some of them become so tired and overtired that they became crazy and finally drop as though dead, with foams in mouth all wet by perspiration. All the men and women made holy shirts and dresses they wear in dance. The persons dropped in dance would all lie in great dust the dancing make. They paint the white muslins they made holy shirts and dresses out of with blue across the back, and alongside of this is a line of yellow paint. They also paint in the front part of the shirts and dresses. A picture of an eagle is made on the back of all the shirts and dresses. On the shoulders and on the sleeves they tied eagle feathers. They said that the bullets will not go through these shirts and dresses, so they all have these dresses for war. Their enemies weapon will not go through these dresses. The ghost dancers all have to wear eagle feather on head. With this feather any man would be made crazy if fan with this feather. In the ghost dance no person is allow to wear anything made of any metal, except the guns made of metal is carry by some of the dancers. When they come from ghosts or after recovery from craziness, they brought meat from the ghosts or from the supposed messiah. They also brought water, fire, and wind with which to kill all the whites or Indians who will help the chief of the whites. They made sweat house and made holes in the middle of the sweat house where they say the water will come out of these holes. Before they begin to dance they all raise their hands toward the northwest and cry in supplication to the messiah and then begin the dance with the song, “Ate misunkala ceya omani-ye,” etc.

SELWYN’S INTERVIEW WITH KUWAPI

On November 21, 1890, it was reported to Agent E. W. Foster, in charge of Yankton agency, South Dakota, that an Indian named Kuwapi, from Rosebud agency, was on the reservation teaching the doctrine and ceremony of the Ghost dance. He at once had the man arrested by a force in charge of William T. Selwyn, a full-blood Yankton Sioux, who had received a fair education under the patronage of a gentleman in Philadelphia, and who had for several years been employed in various capacities at different Sioux agencies. Selwyn had recently come from Pine Ridge, where he had learned and reported to Agent Gallagher something of the religious excitement among the western Sioux, and had afterward repeated this information to the agent at Yankton. While Kuwapi was in his custody Selwyn questioned him at length concerning the new doctrine, and forwarded the following report (G. D., Document 36861—1890) of the interview to Agent Foster:

+Yankton Agency, South Dakota+, November 22, 1890.

Colonel +E. W. Foster+, United States Indian Agent, Yankton Agency, South Dakota.

+Dear Sir+: It has been reported here a few days ago that there was an Indian visitor up at White Swan from Rosebud agency who has been telling or teaching the doctrines of the new messiah, and has made some agitation among the people up there. According to the request of Captain Conrad, United States Army, of Fort Randall, South Dakota, and by your order of the 21st instant, I went up to White Swan and have arrested the wanted man (Kuwapi, or One they chased after). On my way to the agency with the prisoner I have made little interview with him on the subject of the new messiah. The following are the facts which he corroborated concerning the new messiah, his laws and doctrines to the Indians of this continent:

Q. Do you believe in the new messiah?—A. I somewhat believe it.

Q. What made you believe it?—A. Because I ate some of the buffalo meat that he (the new messiah) sent to the Rosebud Indians through Short Bull.

Q. Did Short Bull say that he saw the living herd of roaming buffaloes while he was with the son of the Great Spirit?—A. Short Bull told the Indians at Rosebud that the buffalo and other wild game will be restored to the Indians at the same time when the general resurrection in favor of the Indians takes place.

Q. You said a “general resurrection in favor of the Indians takes place;” when or how soon will this be?—A. The father sends word to us that he will have all these caused to be so in the spring, when the grass is knee high.

Q. You said “father;” who is this father?—A. It is the new messiah. He has ordered his children (Indians) to call him “father.”

Q. You said the father is not going to send the buffalo until the resurrection takes place. Would he be able to send a few buffaloes over this way for a sort of a sample, so as to have his children (Indians) to have a taste of the meat?—A. The father wishes to do things all at once, even in destroying the white race.

Q. You said something about the destroying of the white race. Do you mean to say that all mankind except the Indians will be killed?—A. Yes.

Q. How, and who is going to kill the white people?—A. The father is going to cause a big cyclone or whirlwind, by which he will have all the white people to perish.

Q. If it should be a cyclone or whirlwind, what are we going to do to protect ourselves?—A. The father will make some kind of provisions by which we will be saved.

Q. You said something about the coming destruction on the white people by your father. Supposing your father is sick, tired out, forget, or some other accidental cause by which he should not be able to accomplish his purpose, what would be the case about the destroying of the white people?—A. There is no doubt about these things, as the miracle performer or the father is going to do just as what he said he would do.

Q. What other object could you come to by which you are led to believe that there is such a new messiah on earth at present?—A. The ghost dancers are fainted whenever the dance goes on.

Q. Do you believe that they are really fainted?—A. Yes.

Q. What makes you believe that the dancers have really fainted?—A. Because when they wake or come back to their senses they sometimes bring back some news from the unknown world, and some little trinkets, such as buffalo tail, buffalo meat, etc.

Q. What did the fainted ones see when they get fainted?—A. They visited the happy hunting ground, the camps, multitudes of people, and a great many strange people.

Q. What did the ghost or the strange people tell the fainted one or ones?—A. When the fainted one goes to the camp, he is welcomed by the relatives of the visitor (the fainted one), and he is also invited to several feasts.

Q. Were the people at Rosebud agency anxiously waiting or expecting to see all of their dead relatives who have died several years ago?—A. Yes.

Q. We will have a great many older folks when all the dead people come back, would we not?—A. The visitors all say that there is not a single old man nor woman in the other world—all changed to young.

Q. Are we going to die when the dead ones come back?—A. No; we will be just the same as we are today.

Q. Did the visitor say that there is any white men in the other world?—A. No; no white people.

Q. If there is no white people in the other world, where did they get their provisions and clothing?—A. In the other world, the messenger tells us that they have depended altogether for their food on the flesh of buffalo and other wild game; also, they were all clad in skins of wild animals.

Q. Did the Rosebud agency Indians believe the new messiah, or the son of the Great Spirit?—A. Yes.

Q. How do they show that they have a belief in the new messiah?—A. They show themselves by praying to the father by looking up to heaven, and call him “father,” just the same as you would in a church.

Q. Have you ever been in a church?—A. No.

Q. Do you faithfully believe in the new messiah?—A. I did not in the first place, but as I became more acquainted with the doctrines of the new messiah that I really believe in him.

Q. How many people at Rosebud, in your opinion, believe this new messiah?—A. Nearly every one.

Q. Did you not the Rosebud people prepare to attack the white people this summer? While I was at Pine Ridge agency this summer the Oglalla Sioux Indians say they will resist against the government if the latter should try to put a stop to the messiah question. Did your folks at Rosebud say the same thing?—A. Yes.

Q. Are they still preparing and thinking to attack the white people should the government send our soldiers with orders to put a stop to your new business of the messiah?—A. I do not know, but I think that the Wojaji band at Rosebud agency will do some harm at any time.

Q. You do not mean to say that the Rosebud Indians will try and cause an outbreak?—A. That seems to be the case.

Q. You said something about the “son of the Great Spirit,” or “the father.” What do you mean by the son of the Great Spirit?—A. This father, as he is called, said himself that he is the son of the Great Spirit.

Q. Have you talked to or with any Indian at White Swan about the new messiah, his laws and doctrines, or have you referred this to anyone while there?—A. I have told a few of them. I did not voluntarily express my wish for them to know and follow the doctrines of the new messiah.

Q. Yes, but you have explained the matter to the Indians, did you not?—A. Yes, I have.

Q. Do the Yankton Indians at White Swan believe in your teaching of the new messiah?—A. I did not intend to teach them, but as I have been questioned on the subject, that I have said something about it.

Q. Did any of them believe in you?—A. Some have already believed it, and some of them did not believe it.

Q. Those that have believed in you must be better men than the others, are they not?—A. I do not know.

Q. Do you intend to introduce the doctrines of the new messiah from Rosebud to this agency as a missionary of the gospel?—A. No, I did not.

Q. What brings you here, then?—A. I have some relatives here that I wanted to see, and this was the reason why I came here.

Q. Where does this new messiah question originate? I mean from the first start of it.—A. This has originated in White mountains.

Q. Where is this White mountain?—A. Close to the big Rocky mountains, near the country that belong to the Mexicans.

Q. Do you think that there will be a trouble in the west by next spring?—A. Yes.

Q. What makes you think so?—A. Because that is what I have heard people talk of.

This is all that I have questioned Kuwapi on the subject of the new messiah.

Respectfully, your obedient servant, +William T. Selwyn+.

+Chapter XI+

THE GHOST DANCE WEST OF THE ROCKIES

The first Ghost dance on Walker Lake reservation took place in January, 1889, about a mile above the railroad bridge near the agency. Wovoka’s preaching had already been attracting general attention among his own people for some months. It is said that six Apache attended this first dance, but the statement is improbable, as this would imply that they had made a journey of 600 miles through a desert country to see a man as yet unknown outside of his own tribe. From this time, however, his fame went abroad, and another large dance in the same vicinity soon after was attended by a number of Ute from Utah. The Ute are neighbors of the Paiute on the east, as the Bannock are on the north, and these tribes were naturally the first to hear of the new prophet and to send delegates to attend the dance. The doctrine spread almost simultaneously to all the scattered bands of Paiute in Nevada, Oregon, and adjacent sections.

In its essential features the Ghost dance among the Paiute as conducted by the messiah himself was practically the same as among the majority of the prairie tribes, as will later be described. The Sioux, Kiowa, and perhaps some other tribes, however, danced around a tree or pole set up in the center of the ring, differing in this respect from the Paiute, as well as from the Cheyenne, Arapaho, Caddo, and others. No fire was allowed within the ring by any of the prairie tribes among whom the subject was investigated, but among the Paiute it seems that fires were built either within the circle or close to it. When I visited the messiah in January, 1892, deep snow was on the ground, which had caused the temporary suspension of dancing, so that I had no opportunity of seeing the performance there for myself. I saw, however, the place cleared for the dance ground—the same spot where the large delegation from Oklahoma had attended the dance the preceding summer—at the upper end of Mason valley. A large circular space had been cleared of sagebrush and leveled over, and around the circumference were the remains of the low round structures of willow branches which had sheltered those in attendance. At one side, within the circle, was a larger structure of branches, where the messiah gave audience to the delegates from distant tribes, and, according to their statements, showed them the glories of the spirit world through the medium of hypnotic trances. The Paiute always dance five nights, or perhaps more properly four nights and the morning of the fifth day, as enjoined, by the messiah on the visiting delegates, ending the performance with a general shaking and waving of blankets, as among the prairie tribes, after which all go down and bathe in the nearest stream. The shaking of the blankets dispels all evil influences and drives sickness and disease away from the dancers. There is no previous consecration of the ground, as among the Arapaho, and no preliminary sweat bath, as among the Sioux. The sweat bath seems to be unknown to the Paiute, who are preeminently a dirty people, and I saw no trace of sweat-house frames at any of their camps. Nakash, the Arapaho who visited the messiah in 1889 and first brought the dance to the eastern tribes, confirmed the statements of the Paiute and ranchmen that there were no trances in the Paiute Ghost dance.

Besides the dance ground in Mason valley, where the messiah himself generally presided, there were several others on Walker River reservation, although, if we are to believe the agent, no Ghost dances were ever held on either reservation.

The following extract from Porcupine’s account of his visit to the messiah in the fall of 1889 (see page 793) gives some idea of the Paiute Ghost dance and throws light on the cataleptic peculiarities of the messiah:

I went to the agency at Walker lake, and they told us Christ would be there in two days. At the end of two days, on the third morning, hundreds of people gathered at this place. They cleared off a place near the agency in the form of a circus ring and we all gathered there. This space was perfectly cleared of grass, etc. We waited there till late in the evening, anxious to see Christ. Just before sundown I saw a great many people, mostly Indians, coming dressed in white men’s clothes. The Christ was with them. They all formed in this ring in a circle around him. They put up sheets all around the circle, as they had no tents. Just after dark some of the Indians told me that the Christ (father) was arrived. I looked around to find him, and finally saw him sitting on one side of the ring. They all started toward him to see him. They made a big fire to throw light on him. I never looked around, but went forward, and when I saw him I bent my head.... He sat there a long time and nobody went up to speak to him. He sat with his head bowed all the time. After awhile he rose and said he was very glad to see his children. “I have sent for you and am glad to see you. I am going to talk to you after awhile about your relatives who are dead and gone. My children, I want you to listen to all I have to say to you. I will teach you, too, how to dance a dance, and I want you to dance it. Get ready for your dance, and then when the dance is over I will talk to you.” He was dressed in a white coat with stripes. The rest of his dress was a white man’s, except that he had on a pair of moccasins. Then he commenced our dance, everybody joining in, the Christ singing while we danced. We danced till late in the night; then he told us we had danced enough.

The next morning after breakfast was over, we went into the circle and spread canvas over it on the ground, the Christ standing in the midst of us. He told us he was going away that day, but would be back the next morning and talk to us.... He had no beard or whiskers, but very heavy eyebrows. He was a good-looking man. We were crowded up very close. We had been told that nobody was to talk, and that even if we whispered the Christ would know it.... He would talk to us all day.

That evening we all assembled again to see him depart. When we were assembled he began to sing, and he commenced to tremble all over violently for a while and then sat down. We danced all that night, the Christ lying down beside us apparently dead.

The next morning when we went to eat breakfast, the Christ was with us. After breakfast four heralds went around and called out that the Christ was back with us and wanted to talk with us. The circle was prepared again. The people assembled, and Christ came among us and sat down. (G. D., 9.)

We come now to the other tribes bordering on the Paiute. First in order are the Washo, a small band dwelling on the slopes of the sierras in the neighborhood of Carson, Nevada, and speaking a peculiar language of unknown affinity. They are completely under the domination of the Paiute. They had no separate dance, but joined in with the nearest camps of Paiute and sang the same songs. Occupying practically the same territory as the Paiute, they were among the first to receive the new doctrine.

Farther to the south, in California, about Bridgeport and Mono lake and extending across to the westward slope of the sierras, are several small Shoshonean bands closely akin to the Paiute and known locally as the “Diggers.” The Paiute state that bands of these Indians frequently came up and participated in the dance on the reservation. They undoubtedly had their own dances at home also.

According to the statement of the agent in charge of the Mission Indians in southern California in 1891, the doctrine reached them also, and the medicine-men of Potrero began to prophesy the destruction of the whites and the return of Indian supremacy. Few believed their predictions, however, until rumors brought the news of the overflow of Colorado river and the birth of “Salton sea” in the summer of 1891. Never doubting that the great change was near at hand, the frightened Indians fled to the mountains to await developments, but after having gone hungry for several days the millennial dawn seemed still as far away as ever, and they returned to their homes with disappointment in their hearts. Although the agent mentions specifically only the Indians of Potrero, there can be no doubt that the inhabitants of the other Mission rancherias in the vicinity were also affected, and we are thus enabled to fix the boundary of the messiah excitement in this direction at the Pacific ocean. (Comr., 27.)

In northern California the new doctrine was taken up late in 1890 by the Pit River Indians, a group of tribes constituting a distinct linguistic stock and scattered throughout the whole basin of Pit river, from Goose lake to the Sacramento, which may have formed the boundary of the Ghost-dance movement in this direction. (A. G. O., 7.) As a number of these Indians are living also on Round Valley reservation in California, it is possible that the doctrine may have reached there also. Having obtained the dance ritual directly from the Paiute, their neighbors on the east, the ceremony and belief were probably the same with both tribes.

So far as can be learned from the reports of agents, and from the statement of Wovoka himself, the dance was never taken up by the Indians of Hoopa Valley reservation in California; of Klamath, Siletz, Grande Ronde, or Umatilla reservations in Oregon; by any of the tribes in Washington; by those of Lapwai or Cœur d’Alêne reservations in Idaho; or on Jocko reservation in Montana. Wovoka stated that he had been visited by delegates from Warmspring agency, in Oregon, who also had taken part in the dance, but these may have been some of the Paiute living on that reservation. The small band of Paiute living with the Klamath probably also attended the dance at some time.[8]

A single Nez Percé visited the messiah, but the visit had no effect on his tribe at home. In a general way it may be stated that the doctrine of the Ghost dance was never taken up by any tribes of the Salishan or Shahaptian stocks, occupying practically the whole of the great Columbia basin. This is probably due to the fact that the more important of these tribes have been for a long time under the influence of Catholic or other Christian missionaries, while most of the others are adherents of the Smohalla or the Shaker doctrine.

Of the tribes southward from the Paiute, according to the best information obtainable, the Ghost dance never reached the Yuma, Pima, Papago, Maricopa, or any of the Apache bands in Arizona or New Mexico, neither did it affect any of the Pueblo tribes except the Taos, who performed the dance merely as a pastime. As before stated, it is said that six Apache attended the first large dance at Walker lake in 1889. This seems improbable, but if true it produced no effect on any part of the tribe at large. Later on the Jicarilla Apache, in northern New Mexico, may have heard of it through the southern Ute, but, so far as is known officially, neither of these tribes ever engaged in the dance. The agent of the Jicarilla states that the tribe knew nothing of the doctrine until informed of it by himself. (G. D., 10.) It seems never to have been taken up by the Mescalero Apache in southern New Mexico, although they are in the habit of making frequent visits to the Kiowa, Comanche, Apache, and other Ghost-dancing tribes of Oklahoma. The agent of the Mohave states officially that these Indians knew nothing about it, but this must be a mistake, as there is constant communication between the Mohave and the southern Paiute, and, according to Wovoka’s statement, Mohave delegates attended the dance in 1890, while the 700 Walapai and Chemehuevi associated with the Mohave are known to have been devoted adherents of the doctrine.

The dance was taken up nearly simultaneously by the Bannock, Shoshoni, Gosiute, and Ute in the early part of 1889. All these tribes are neighbors (on the east) of the Paiute and closely cognate to them, the Bannock particularly having only a slight dialectal difference of language, so that communication between them is an easy matter. The

Bannock are chiefly on Fort Hall and Lemhi reservations in Idaho. The Shoshoni are on the Western Shoshone (Duck Valley) reservation in Nevada, on Fort Hall and Lemhi reservations in Idaho, and on Wind River reservation in Wyoming. The Ute are on Uintah and Uncompahgre reservations in Utah, and on the Southern Ute reservation in Colorado. There are also a considerable number of Bannock and Shoshoni not on reservations. The Ute of Utah sent delegates to the messiah soon after the first Ghost dance in January, 1889, but it is doubtful if the southern Ute in Colorado were engaged in the dance. Although aware of the doctrine, they ridiculed the idea of the dead returning to earth. (G. D., 11.)

In regard to the dance among the Shoshoni and Paiute on the Western Shoshoni reservation, in Nevada and Idaho, their agent writes, under date of November 8, 1890:

The Indians of this reservation and vicinity have just concluded their second medicine dance, the previous one having taken place in August last. They are looking for the coming of the Indian Christ, the resurrection of the dead Indians, and the consequent supremacy of the Indian race. Fully one thousand people took part in the dance. While the best of order prevailed, the excitement was very great as morning approached. When the dancers were worn out mentally and physically, the medicine-men would shout that they could see the faces of departed friends and relatives moving about the circle. No pen can paint the picture of wild excitement that ensued. All shouted in a chorus, Christ has come, and then danced and sung until they fell in a confused and exhausted mass on the ground.... I apprehend no trouble beyond the loss of time and the general demoralizing effect of these large gatherings of people. Several of the leading men have gone to Walker lake to confer with a man who calls himself Christ. Others have gone to Fort Hall to meet Indians from Montana and Dakota, to get the news from that section. In fact, the astonishing part of the business is the fact that all the Indians in the country seem to possess practically the same ideas and expect about the same result. (G. D., 12.)

On December 6 he writes that another Ghost dance had then been in progress for six days, and that the Indians had announced their intention to dance one week in each month until the grass grew, at which time the medicine-men had told them the messiah would come, bringing with him all their dead friends. (G. D., 13.) This dance, however, was attended by a much smaller number of Indians, and skeptics had already arisen among them to scoff at the new believers. The leaven was working, and only a little shrewd diplomacy was needed to turn the religious scale, as is shown by an extract from a third letter, dated January 10, 1891, from which it would seem that Agent Plumb is a man of practical common sense, as likewise that Esau was not the only one who would sell his birthright for a mess of pottage:

Christmas day was the day set for commencing another dance. On learning this, I told the Indians that it was my intention to give them all a big feast and have a general holiday on Christmas, but that I would not give them anything if they intended to dance. I told them they could play all of their usual games, in fact, have a good time, but that dancing was forbidden. I showed them how continued dancing at various Sioux agencies had ended in soldiers being sent to stop them. I stated the case as clearly as I could; the Indians debated it two days, and then reported that while they hoped their dead friends would come back, and believed that dancing would help to bring them, yet they were friends of the government, and friends of the whites, and my friends, and would not hold any more resurrection dances without my consent. Up to this date they have kept their word. I have no hope of breaking up their dances altogether, but I have strong hopes of controlling them. (G. D., 14.)

The Bannock and Shoshoni of Fort Hall reservation in Idaho have served as the chief medium of the doctrine between the tribes west of the mountains and those of the plains. Situated almost on the summit of the great divide, they are within easy reach of the Paiute to the west, among whom the dance originated, and whose language the Bannock speak, while at no great distance to the east, on Wind River reservation in Wyoming, the remaining Shoshoni are confederated with the Arapaho, who have been from the first the great apostles of the doctrine among the prairie tribes. There is constant visiting back and forth between the tribes of these two reservations, while the four railroads coming in at Fort Hall, together with the fact of its close proximity to the main line of the Union Pacific, tend still more to make it a focus and halting point for Indian travel. Almost every delegation from the tribes east of the mountains stopped at this agency to obtain the latest news from the messiah and to procure interpreters from among the Bannock to accompany them to Nevada. In a letter of November 26, 1890, to the Indian Commissioner, the agent in charge states that during the preceding spring and summer his Indians had been visited by representatives from about a dozen different reservations. In regard to the dance and the doctrine at Fort Hall, he also says that the extermination and resurrection business was not a new thing with his tribes by any means, but had been quite a craze with them every few years for the last twenty years or more, only varying a little according to the whim of particular medicine-men. (G. D., 15.) This may have referred to the doctrine already mentioned as having been taught by Tävibo.

Early in 1889 a Bannock from Fort Hall visited the Shoshoni and Arapaho of Wind River reservation in Wyoming and brought them the first knowledge of the new religion. He had just returned from a visit to the Paiute country, where he said he had met messengers who had told him that the dead people were coming back, and who had commanded him to go and tell all the tribes. “And so,” said the Shoshoni, “he came here and told us all about it.” Accordingly, in the summer of that year a delegation of five Shoshoni, headed by Täbinshi, with Nakash (“Sage”), an Arapaho, visited the messiah of Mason valley, traveling most of the way by railroad and occupying several days in the journey. They attended a Ghost dance, which, according to their accounts, was a very large one, and after dancing all night were told by the messiah that they would meet all their dead in two years from that time at the turning of the leaves, i. e., in the autumn of 1891. They were urged to dance frequently, “because the dance moves the dead.” One of the Shoshoni delegates understood the Bannock and Paiute language and interpreted for the rest. The information was probably conveyed by the Shoshoni to the Arapaho through the medium of the sign language.

In accord with the report of the delegates, on their return home the Shoshoni and Arapaho at once began to dance. A year later, in the fall of 1890, a dense smoke from forest fires in the mountains drifted down and obscured the air in the lower country to such an extent that horses were lost in the haze. This was regarded by the Indians as an indication of the approach of the great change, and the dance was continued with increased fervor, but at last the atmosphere began to clear and the phenomenon ended as it had begun—in smoke. The dance was kept up, however, without abatement for another year, until the predicted time had come and gone, when the Shoshoni—who seem to share the skeptical nature of their southern kinsmen, the Comanche—concluded that they had been deceived, and abandoned the dance. The Arapaho, who have greater faith in the unseen things of the spirit world, kept it up, and were still dancing when I visited them in the summer of 1892. A part of the Arapaho, headed by their chief, Black Coal, and encouraged by the Catholic missionaries, had steadily opposed the dance from the first. After considerable discussion of the matter it was decided, on Black Coal’s proposition, to send another delegation to the messiah, under the guidance of Yellow Eagle, a graduate of a government Indian school, to learn as to the truth or falsity of the new doctrine. They returned early in 1891 and reported against the movement. Their report confirmed the doubters in their skepticism, but produced little effect on the rest of the tribe.

When I visited Wind River reservation in Wyoming in June, 1892, the agent in charge informed me that there was no Ghost dancing on his reservation; that he had explained how foolish it was and had strictly forbidden it, and that in consequence the Indians had abandoned it. However, he expressed interest in my investigation, and as the Arapaho, with whom I had most to do, were then camped in a body a few miles up in the mountains cutting wood, he very kindly furnished a conveyance and camping outfit, with two of the agency employees—a clerk and an interpreter—to take me out. It appeared afterward that the escort had received instructions of their own before starting. Having reached the camp and set up our tent, the Arapaho soon came around to get acquainted, over a pipe and a cup of coffee; but, in answer to questions put by one of my companions, a white man, who assumed the burden of the conversation, it seemed that the Indians had lost all interest in the dance. In fact, some of them were so ignorant on the subject that they wanted to know what it meant.

After trying in vain to convince me that it was useless to waste time further with the Indians, the clerk started back again after supper, satisfied that that part of the country was safe so far as the Ghost dance was concerned. By this time it was dark, and the Indians invited the interpreter and myself to come over to a tipi about half a mile away, where we could meet all the old men. We started, and had gone but a short distance when we heard from a neighboring hill the familiar measured cadence of the ghost songs. On turning with a questioning look to my interpreter—who was himself a half-blood—he quietly said: “Yes; they are dancing the Ghost dance. That’s something I have never reported, and I never will. It is their religion and they have a right to it.” Not wishing to be an accomplice in crime, I did not go over to the dance; but it is needless to state that the old men in the tipi that night, and for several successive nights thereafter, knew all about the songs and ceremonies of the new religion. As already stated, the Shoshoni had really lost faith and abandoned the dance.

Among the Shoshoni the dance was performed around a small cedar tree, planted in the ground for that purpose. Unlike the Sioux, they hung nothing on this tree. The men did not clasp each other’s hands, but held on to their blankets instead; but a woman standing between two men took hold of their hands. There was no preliminary medicine ceremony. The dance took place usually in the morning, and at its close the performers shook their blankets in the air, as among the Paiute and other tribes, before dispersing. However novel may have been the doctrine, the Shoshoni claim that the Ghost dance itself as performed by them was a revival of an old dance which they had had fully fifty years before.

The selection of the cedar in this connection is in agreement with the general Indian idea, which has always ascribed a mystic sacredness to that tree, from its never-dying green, which renders it so conspicuous a feature of the desert landscape; from the aromatic fragrance of its twigs, which are burned as incense in sacred ceremonies; from the durability and fine texture of its wood, which makes it peculiarly appropriate for tipi poles and lance shafts; and from the dark-red color of its heart, which seems as though dyed in blood. In Cherokee myth the cedar was originally a pole, to the top of which they fastened the fresh scalps of their enemies, and the wood was thus stained by the blood that trickled slowly down along it to the ground. The Kiowa also selected a cedar for the center of their Ghost-dance circle.

We go back now to the southern tribes west of the mountains. Some time in the winter of 1889–90 Paiute runners brought to the powerful tribe of the Navaho, living in northern New Mexico and Arizona, the news of the near advent of the messiah and the resurrection of the dead. They preached and prophesied for a considerable time, but the Navaho were skeptical, laughed at the prophets, and paid but little attention to the prophesies. (Matthews, 1.) According to the official report for 1892, these Indians, numbering somewhat over 16,000 souls, have, in round numbers, 9,000 cattle, 119,000 horses, and 1,600,000 sheep and goats; and, as suggested by Dr Matthews, the authority on that tribe, it may be that, being rich in herds and wealth of silver, they felt no special need of a redeemer. While with the Navaho in the winter of 1892–93 I made inquiry in various parts of their wide-extended territory, but could not learn that the Ghost dance had ever been performed among them, and it evident that in their case the doctrinal seed had fallen on barren ground.

Before visiting the tribe, I had written for information to Mr A. M. Stephen, of Keams Cañon, Arizona, since deceased, who had studied the Navaho and Hopi for years and spoke the Navaho language fluently. I quote from him on the subject. It may be noted that Keams Cañon is about 125 miles northwest of Fort Wingate, the point from which Dr Matthews writes, and nearer by that much to the Paiute, Cohonino, and Walapai, all of whom have accepted the new religion. Mr Stephen states that some time in February or March, 1890, he first heard rumors among the Navaho that “the old men long dead” had returned to some foreign tribes in the north or east, the vague far away. The intelligence was brought to the Navaho either by the Ute or Paiute, or both. The rumor grew and the idea became commonly current among the Navaho that the mythic heroes were to return and that under their direction they were to expel American and Mexican and restrict the Zuñi and Hopi close to their villages, and, in fact, to reestablish their old domain from San Francisco mountains to Santa Fé. (Stephen, 1.) On November 22, 1891, he further writes:

While out this last time I camped over night with some Navajo friends, and over a pipe brought up the messiah topic. This family belongs to the Bitter-Water gens, and this is the gist of what I got from them: A Pah-ute came to a family of their gens living near Navajo mountain and told them that Na′-Keh-tkla-ĭ was to return from the under world and bring back all the Tinneh (Navajo) he had killed. Na′-keh-tkla-ĭ (i. e., “foreigner with white foot sole”) in the long ago had a puma and a bear. These were his pets. He would call puma from the east and bear from the west, and just before dawn they met in the center. Thus they met four times. On the fourth meeting puma reached back with his forepaw and plucked his mane, tossing the hair aloft, and for every hair a Tinneh died. This fatal sorcery continued for a long time, and great numbers were killed. Now, the Pah-ute said, this sorcerer was to return, and would call his pets, and they would come east and west, and following their trail would be all the people whose death they had caused. These Navajo said they had heard of other Pah-ute prophecies a year or more ago, all to the effect that long dead people were to return alive from the under world. These resurrected ones were also to bring back the departed game, and the Tinneh would again dominate the region. But, said my informant, datsaigi yelti, “it is worthless talk.” (Stephen, 2.)

In connection with hypnotism as seen in the Ghost dance, Dr Matthews states that in one curious Navaho ceremony he has several times seen the patient hypnotized or pretend to be hypnotized by a character dressed in evergreens. The occurrence of the hypnotic trance is regarded as a sign that the ceremony has been effective. If the trance does not occur, some other ceremony must be tried. (Matthews, 2.)

West of the Navaho in northeastern Arizona live the Hopi, or Moki, a Pueblo tribe occupying several villages on the tops of nearly inaccessible mesas. In July, 1891, four of these Indians, while on a visit to the Cohonino, living farther to the west, first heard of the new doctrine and witnessed a Ghost dance, as will be described hereafter. They brought back the news to their people, but it made no impression on them and the matter was soon forgotten. (Stephen, 3.) In this connection Mr Stephen states, in response to a letter of inquiry, that although he does not recollect any Hopi myth concerning rejuvenation of the world and reunion with the resurrected dead on this earth, yet the doctrine of a reunion with the revivified dead in the under world is a commonly accepted belief of the Hopi. They have also a curious myth of a fair-hair god and a fair-skin people who came up from the under world with the Hopi, and who then left them with a promise to return. This suggests the idea of a messiah, but Mr Stephen has not yet been able to get the myth in its entirety. He does not think it derived from any corrupt source, however, through Spanish or other missionaries, as the allusions are all of archaic tendency. (Stephen, 4.)

The Cohonino or Havasupai are a small tribe occupying the canyon of Cataract creek, an affluent of the Colorado, in northern Arizona, about 120 miles west of the Hopi, with whom they have a considerable trade in buckskins and mesquite bread. They probably obtained the doctrine and the dance directly from the Paiute to the northward. Our only knowledge of the Cohonino dance is derived through Hopi informants, and as the two tribes speak languages radically different the ideas conveyed were neither complete nor definite, but it is evident that the general doctrine was the same, although the dance differed in some respects from that of the other tribes.

We quote again from Stephen’s letter of November 22, 1891:

During a quiet interval, in one of the kivas I found the Hopi who brought the tidings of the resurrection to his people. His name is Pütci and his story is very meager and confused. He went on a customary trading visit to the Cojonino in their home at Cataract creek, and I could not determine just when. The chief of the Cojonino is named Navajo, and when Pütci got there, Navajo had but lately returned from a visit to the westward. He had been with the Walapai, the Mohave, and perhaps still farther west, and had been gone nearly three months. He told his people a vague mystic story that he had heard during his travels, to the effect that the long-time dead people of the Antelope, Deer, and Rabbit [Antelope, Deer, etc., are probably Cohonino gentes—J. M.] were to come back and live in their former haunts; that they had reached to a place where were the people of the Puma, the Wolf, and the Bear; that this meeting delayed the coming, but eventually all these people would appear, and in the sequence here related. Pütci was accompanied by three other Hopi, and they said they did not very well understand this strange story. While they were stopping in Cataract cañon a one-night dance was held by the Cojonino, at which these Hopi were present. During the night a long pole, having the tail of an eagle fastened to the end, was brought out and securely planted in the ground, and the dancers were told by their shamans that anyone who could climb this pole and put his mouth on the tail would see his dead mother (maternal ancestor). One man succeeded in climbing it and laid his mouth on the feathers, and then fell to the bottom in a state of collapse. They deemed him dead, but before dawn he recovered and then said that he had seen his dead mother and several other dead ancestors, who told him they were all on their way back. The Hopi on their return home related these marvels, but apparently it made little impression, and it was only with difficulty I could gather the above meager details.

Through the kindness of Mr Thomas V. Keam, trader for the Hopi and Navaho, we get a revision of Pütci’s story. Pütci states that in July, 1891, he with three other Hopi went on a visit to the Cohonino to trade for buckskins. When they arrived in the vicinity of the Cohonino camp, they were met by one of the tribe, who informed the visitors that all the Indians were engaged in a very important ceremony, and that before they could enter the camp they must wash their bodies and paint them with white clay. Accordingly, when this had been done, they were escorted to the camp and introduced to the principal chief and headmen, all of whom they found engaged in washing their heads, decorating themselves, and preparing for the ceremony, which took place on a clear space near the camp late in the afternoon. Here a very tall straight pole had been securely fastened upright in the ground. At the top were tied two eagle-tail feathers. A circle was formed around this pole by the Indians, and, after dancing around it until almost dark, one of the men climbed the pole to the top, and remained there until exhausted, when he would slide to the ground, clinging insensible to the pole. After remaining in this state for some time, the medicine-men resuscitated him. On recovery he stood up and told them he had been into another world, where he saw all the old men who had died long ago, and among them his own people. They told him they would all come back in time and bring the deer, the antelope, and all other good things they had when they dwelt on this earth. This ceremony lasted four days, including the cleansing and decorating of the dancers and the climbing of the pole, with an account of what had been seen by the Indian during the time he was in an apparently lifeless state. Each day the ceremony was attended by the whole tribe. (Keam, 1.) Resuscitation by the medicine-men, as here mentioned, is something unknown among the prairie tribes, where the unconscious subject is allowed to lie undisturbed on the ground until the senses return in the natural way.

Beyond the Cohonino, and extending for about 200 miles along Colorado river on the Arizona side, are the associated tribes of Mohave, Walapai, and Chemehuevi, numbering in all about 2,800 souls, of whom only about one-third are on a reservation. The Chemehuevi, being a branch of the Paiute and in constant communication with them, undoubtedly had the dance and the doctrine. The Mohave also have much to do with the Paiute, the two tribes interchanging visits and mutually borrowing songs and games. They sent delegates to the messiah and in all probability took up the Ghost dance, in spite of the agent’s statement to the contrary. As only 660 of more than 2,000 Mohave are reported as being on the reservation, the agent may have a good reason for not keeping fully informed in regard to them.

Concerning the Walapai we have positive information. In September, 1890, the commanding officer at Fort Whipple was informed that a Paiute from southern Utah was among the Walapai, inciting them to dance for the purpose of causing hurricanes and storms to destroy the whites and such Indians as would not participate in the dances. It was stated also that these dances had then been going on for several months and were participated in by a large portion of the tribe, and that each dance lasted four or five nights in succession. On investigation it appeared that this Paiute was one of a party who had come down and inaugurated the Ghost dance among the Walapai the preceding year. (G. D., 17.)

We find an account of the Walapai Ghost dance in a local paper a year later. The article states that all the songs were in the language of the Paiute, from whom the doctrine had originally come. The Walapai version of the doctrine has been already noted. The dance itself, and the step, as here described, are essentially the same as among other tribes. Each dance lasted five nights, and on the last night was kept up until daylight. Just before daylight on the morning of the last night the medicine men ascended a small butte, where they met and talked with the expected god, and on coming down again delivered his message to the people. The dance was held at irregular intervals, according to the instructions received on the butte by the medicine-men.

The dance place was a circular piece of ground a hundred feet in diameter, inclosed by a fence of poles and bushes, and surrounded by high mountain walls of granite, which reflected the light from half a dozen fires blazing within the circle. The dancers, to the number of 200, clad in white robes with fancy trimmings, their faces and hair painted white in various decorative designs, moved slowly around in a circle, keeping time with a wild chant, while 200 more stood or crouched around the fires, awaiting their turn to participate. The dancers faced toward the center, each holding the hands of the ones next to him and joining in the chant in unison. The dust issued in clouds from beneath their feet, and with the dust and exertion together the performers were soon exhausted and dropped out, when others took their places. After each circuit they rested a few minutes and then started round again. At each circuit a different chant was sung, and thus the dance continued until midnight, when, with a loud clapping of hands, it ended, and the people separated and went to their homes. Throughout the performance two or three chiefs or medicine-men were constantly going about on the outside of the circle to preserve order and reprimand any merriment, one of them explaining to the visitors that, as this was a religious ceremony, due solemnity must be observed. (J. F. L., 2.)

+Chapter XII+

THE GHOST DANCE EAST OF THE ROCKIES—AMONG THE SIOUX

In 1889 the Ogalala heard that the son of God had come upon earth in the west. They said the Messiah was there, but he had come to help the Indians and not the whites, and it made the Indians happy to hear this.—George Sword.

They signed away a valuable portion of their reservation, and it is now occupied by white people, for which they have received nothing. They understood that ample provision would be made for their support; instead, their supplies have been reduced and much of the time they have been living on half and two-thirds rations. Their crops, as well as the crops of white people, for two years have been almost a total failure. The disaffection is widespread, especially among the Sioux, while the Cheyennes have been on the verge of starvation and were forced to commit depredations to sustain life. These facts are beyond question, and the evidence is positive and sustained by thousands of witnesses.—General Miles.

Among the tribes east of the mountains and north of Oklahoma, it appears from official documents in the Indian Office and from other obtainable information that the Ghost dance and the doctrine, if known at all, were never accepted by the Blackfeet of Montana; the Ojibwa of Turtle mountain and Devils lake in North Dakota, or by the rest of the tribe farther to the east in Minnesota, Wisconsin, and Michigan; the Omaha, Winnebago, and Ponka in Nebraska; the small band of Sauk and Fox in Iowa; the still smaller band of Sauk and Fox, the Potawatomi, Kickapoo, Iowa, and Ojibwa in northeastern Kansas; or by the Sioux of Devils lake in North Dakota, Lake Traverse (Sisseton agency) and Flandreau in South Dakota, and Santee agency in Nebraska. All or most of these Sioux belong to the Santee or eastern division of the tribe, and have long been under civilizing influences. According to official statements the dance was not taken up by any of the Sioux of Crow Creek or Yankton agencies in South Dakota, but they were certainly more or less affected by it, as they knew all about it and are in constant communication with the wilder bands of Sioux which were concerned in the outbreak. I was informed by the Omaha and Winnebago in 1891 that they had been told of the new messiah by visiting Sioux from Pine Ridge agency in April, 1890, and later on by other Sioux from Yankton agency, but had put no faith in the story, and had never organized a Ghost dance. According to the agent in charge, the Crow of Montana were not affected. This, if true, is remarkable, in view of the fact that the Crow are a large tribe and comparatively primitive, and have living near them the wildest of the Ghost-dancing tribes, the northern Cheyenne especially occupying practically the same reservation. It is possible that their experience in the Sword-bearer affair in 1887, already mentioned, had a tendency to weaken their faith in later prophets. Dr George Bird Grinnell, a competent authority, states, in reply to a personal letter, that nothing was known about the dance by the Blackfeet of Montana or by the Blackfeet, Sarsi, or Plains Cree on the Canadian side of the boundary line.

Within the same general region, east of the Rocky mountains and north of Oklahoma, the doctrine and the dance were accepted by the Asiniboin (Fort Belknap and Fort Peck agencies), Grosventres (Arapaho subtribe, Fort Belknap agency), northern Cheyenne of Montana; the Arikara, Grosventres (Minitari), and Mandan of Fort Berthold agency, North Dakota; the Shoshoni and northern Arapaho on Wind River reservation in Wyoming, as already mentioned; and by the great body of the Sioux, at Fort Peck agency (Yanktonais), Montana, and at Standing Rock, Cheyenne River, Lower Brulé, Pine Ridge, and Rosebud agencies in North Dakota and South Dakota. The whole number of Sioux concerned was about 20,000, of whom 16,000 belonged to the Teton division, among the wildest and most warlike of all the western tribes. A few Cheyenne are also associated with the Sioux at Pine Ridge.

The northern Arapaho and the Shoshoni of Wyoming were the medium by which the doctrine of the new messiah was originally communicated to all these tribes. In the spring of 1889, Nakash, “Sage,” the Arapaho chief already mentioned, crossed the mountains to investigate the reports of the new religion, and brought back a full confirmation of all that had been told them from the west. A visiting Grosventre, then among the Arapaho, heard the story and brought back the wonderful news to the Grosventres and Asiniboin of Fort Belknap, but although his account was received by some with unquestioning faith, the excitement had in it nothing of a dangerous character. (G. D., 18.)

In a short time the news spread to the Cheyenne in Montana and the Sioux of the Dakotas, and in the fall of 1889 delegates from these two tribes arrived at Fort Washakie to learn more about the messiah in the west. The principal Cheyenne delegate was Porcupine, while Short Bull and Kicking Bear were the leaders of the Sioux party. After hearing the statements of the Arapaho and Shoshoni, it was decided that some of the Cheyenne should return and report to their tribe, while Porcupine and one or two others, with the Sioux delegates, several Shoshoni, and the Arapaho, Sitting Bull, and Friday, should go to Nevada, interview the messiah himself, and learn the whole truth of the matter. Accordingly, about November, 1889, Porcupine and his companions left Fort Washakie in Wyoming for Fort Hall reservation in Idaho, where they met the Shoshoni and Bannock and were well received and entertained by them. The tribes at this place were firm believers in the new doctrine, and Porcupine states that from there on to the end of the journey all the Indians they met were dancing the Ghost dance. After stopping a few days at Fort Hall, they went on again, accompanied by several Bannock and Shoshoni, and going rapidly by railroad soon found themselves in the country of the Paiute, and after stopping at one or two camps arrived at the agency at Pyramid lake. Here the Paiute furnished them conveyances and guides to the other agency farther south at Walker river. Porcupine is our principal authority for the events of the trip, and although he claims that he undertook this journey of a thousand miles without any definite purpose or destination in view, it is evident enough from his own narrative that he left Wyoming with the fixed intention of verifying the rumors of a messiah. He has much to say of the kindness of the whites they met west of the mountains, who, it will be remembered, were largely Mormons, who have always manifested a special interest in the Indians. He also states that many of the whites took part with the Indians in the dance.

They were now in the messiah’s country. “The Fisheaters, near Pyramid lake, told me that Christ had appeared on earth again. They said Christ knew he was coming; that eleven of his children were also coming from a far land. It appeared that Christ had sent for me to go there, and that was why, unconsciously, I took my journey. It had been foreordained. Christ had summoned myself and others from all heathen tribes. There were more different languages than I had ever heard before, and I did not understand any of them.” The delegation of which Porcupine was a member was probably the one mentioned by the agent in charge at Pyramid lake as having arrived in the spring of 1890, and consisting of thirty-four Indians of different tribes. (G. D., 19.)

In a few days preparations were made for a great dance near Walker lake, with all the delegates from the various tribes and hundreds of Indians in attendance. They danced two nights or longer, the messiah himself—Wovoka—coming down from his home in Mason valley to lead the ceremony. After the dance Wovoka went into a trance, and on awaking announced to those assembled that he had been to the other world and had seen the spirits of their dead friends and of his own father and mother, and had been sent back to teach the people. According to Porcupine he claimed to be the returned Christ and bore on his body the scars of the crucifixion. He told them that the dead were to be resurrected, and that as the earth was old and worn out it would be renewed as it used to be and made better; that when this happened the youth of everyone would be renewed with each return of spring, and that they would live forever; that there would be universal peace, and that any tribe that refused his message would be destroyed from the face of the earth.

It was early in the spring of 1890 when Porcupine and his Cheyenne companions returned to their tribe at Tongue River agency in Montana with the news of the appearance of the messiah. A council was called and Porcupine made a full report of the journey and delivered the divine message, talking five days in succession. The report aroused the wildest excitement among the Cheyenne, and after several long debates on the subject the Ghost dance was inaugurated at the various camps in accordance with the instructions from beyond the mountains. In June the matter came to the attention of the military officer on the reservation, who summoned Porcupine before him and obtained from him a full account of the journey and the doctrine. (See page 793.) Porcupine insisted strongly on the sacred character of the messiah and his message, and challenged any doubters to return with him to Nevada and investigate for themselves. He claimed also that the messiah could speak all languages. As a matter of fact, Wovoka speaks only his native Paiute and a little English, but due allowance must be made for the mental exaltation of the narrator.

Grinnell states that the failure of certain things to happen according to the predictions of the messiah, in September, 1890, caused a temporary loss of faith on the part of the Cheyenne, but that shortly afterward some visiting Shoshoni and Arapaho from Wyoming reported that in their journey as they came over they had met a party of Indians who had been dead thirty or forty years, but had been resurrected by the messiah, and were now going about as if they had never died. It is useless to speculate on the mental condition of men who could seriously report or believe such things; but, however that may be, the result was that the Cheyenne returned to the dance with redoubled fervor. (J. F. L., 5.)

The Sioux first heard of the messiah in 1889. According to the statement of Captain George Sword, of that tribe, the information came to the Ogalala (Sioux of Pine Ridge) in that year, through the Shoshoni and Arapaho. Later in the same year a delegation consisting of Good Thunder and several others started out to the west to find the messiah and to investigate the truth of the rumor. On their return they announced that the messiah had indeed come to help the Indians, but not the whites. Their report aroused a fervor of joyful excitement among the Indians and a second delegation was sent out in 1890, consisting of Good Thunder, Cloud Horse, Yellow Knife, and Short Bull. They confirmed the report of the first delegation, and on this assurance the Ghost dance was inaugurated among the Sioux at Pine Ridge in the spring of 1890.

The matter is stated differently and more correctly by William Selwyn, an educated Sioux, at that time employed as postmaster at Pine Ridge. He says there was some talk on the subject by Indians from western tribes who visited the agency in the fall of 1888 (?), but that it did not excite much attention until 1889, when numerous letters concerning the new messiah were received by the Indians at Pine Ridge from tribes in Utah, Wyoming, Montana, Dakota, and Oklahoma. As Selwyn was postmaster, the Indians who could not read usually brought their letters to him to read for them, so that he was thus in position to get accurate knowledge of the extent and nature of the excitement. It may be remarked here that, under present conditions, when the various tribes are isolated upon widely separated reservations, the Ghost dance could never have become so widespread, and would probably have died out within a year of its inception, had it not been for the efficient aid it received from the returned pupils of various eastern government schools, who conducted the sacred correspondence for their friends at the different agencies, acted as interpreters for the delegates to the messiah, and in various ways assumed the leadership and conduct of the dance.

In the fall of 1889, at a council held at Pine Ridge by Red Cloud, Young Man Afraid, Little Wound, American Horse, and other Sioux chiefs, a delegation was appointed to visit the western agencies to learn more about the new messiah. The delegates chosen were Good Thunder, Flat Iron, Yellow Breast, and Broken Arm, from Pine Ridge; Short Bull and another from Rosebud, and Kicking Bear from Cheyenne River agency. They started on their journey to the west, and soon began to write from Wyoming, Utah, and beyond the mountains, confirming all that had been said of the advent of a redeemer. They were gone all winter, and their return in the spring of 1890 aroused an intense excitement among the Sioux, who had been anxiously awaiting their report. All the delegates agreed that there was a man near the base of the Sierras who said that he was the son of God, who had once been killed by the whites, and who bore on his body the scars of the crucifixion. He had now returned to punish the whites for their wickedness, especially for their injustice toward the Indians. With the coming of the next spring (1891) he would wipe the whites from the face of the earth, and would then resurrect all the dead Indians, bring back the buffalo and other game, and restore the supremacy of the aboriginal race. He had before come to the whites, but they had rejected him. He was now the God of the Indians, and they must pray to him and call him “father,” and prepare for his awful coming. Selwyn’s account of this delegation, which was accompanied by representatives of several other tribes, including Porcupine the Cheyenne, and Sitting Bull the Arapaho, agrees with the statements of the Arapaho as given in chapter +XIV+. Three of the Sioux delegates found their way to Umatilla reservation in Oregon and remained there several days discussing the new doctrine. (Comr., 30—Dorchester, 529.)

The delegates made their report at Pine Ridge in April, 1890. A council was at once called to discuss the matter, but Selwyn informed the agent, Colonel Gallagher, who had Good Thunder and two others arrested and imprisoned. They were held in confinement two days, but refused to talk when questioned. The intended council was not held, but soon afterward Kicking Bear returned from a visit to the northern Arapaho in Wyoming with the news that those Indians were already dancing, and could see and talk with their dead relatives in the trance. The excitement which the agent had thought to smother by the arrest of the leaders broke out again with added strength. Red Cloud himself, the great chief of the Ogalala, declared his adhesion to the new doctrine and said his people must do as the messiah had commanded. Another council was called on White Clay creek, a few miles from Pine Ridge agency, and the Ghost dance was formally inaugurated among the Sioux, the recent delegates acting as priests and leaders of the ceremony.

As the result of all he could learn, Selwyn, in November, 1890, warned the agent in charge of Yankton agency that the Indians intended a general outbreak in the spring. Six months earlier, and before Porcupine’s statement had been made to the officer at Camp Crook, a letter dated May 29, 1890, had been addressed to the Interior Department from a citizen of Pierre, South Dakota, stating that the Sioux, or a portion of them, were secretly planning for an outbreak in the near future. This was the first intimation of trouble ahead. (G. D., 20.)

Wonderful things were said of the messiah by the returned delegates. It was claimed that he could make animals talk and distant objects appear close at hand, and that he came down from heaven in a cloud. He conjured up before their eyes a vision of the spirit world, so that when they looked they beheld an ocean, and beyond it a land upon which they saw “all the nations of Indians coming home,” but as they looked the vision faded away, the messiah saying that the time had not yet come. Curiously enough, although he came to restore the old life, he advised his hearers to go to work and to send their children to school. Should the soldiers attempt to harm him, he said he need only stretch out his arms and his enemies would become powerless, or the ground would open and swallow them. On their way home if they should kill a buffalo—the messiah had evidently not read Allen’s monograph—they must cut off its head and tail and feet and leave them on the ground and the buffalo would come to life again. They must tell their people to follow his instructions. Unbelievers and renegade Indians would be buried under the new earth which was to come upon the old. They must use the sacred red and white paint and the sacred grass (possibly sagebrush) which he gave them, and in the spring, when the green grass came, their people who were gone before would return, and they would see their friends again.

Now comes the most remarkable part, quoting from the statement given to Captain Sword:

The people from every tipi send for us to visit them; they are people who died many years ago. Chasing Hawk, who died not long ago, was there and we went to his tipi. He was living with his wife, who was killed in war long ago. They live in a buffalo skin tipi—a very large one—and he wanted all his friends to go there to live. A son of Good Thunder, who died in war long ago, was one who also took us to his tipi, so his father saw him. When coming we come to a herd of buffaloes. We killed one and took everything except the four feet, head, and tail, and when we came a little ways from it there was the buffaloes come to life again and went off. This was one of the messiah’s word came to truth. The messiah said, “I will short your journey when you feel tired of the long ways, if you call upon me.” This we did when we were tired. The night came upon us, we stopped at a place and we called upon the messiah to help us because we were tired of long journey. We went to sleep and in the morning we found ourselves at a great distance from where we stopped.

It is useless to assert that these men, who had been selected by the chiefs of their tribe to investigate and report upon the truth or falsity of the messiah rumors, were all liars, and that all the Cheyenne, Arapaho, and other delegates who reported equally wonderful things were liars likewise. They were simply laboring under some strange psychologic influence as yet unexplained. The story of the revivified buffalo became so widely current as to form the subject of a Kiowa ghost song.

Having mentioned some characteristics of the Ghost dance west of the Rockies, we shall notice here some of the peculiar features of the dance as it existed among the Sioux. The ceremony will be described in detail later on.

Before going into the dance the men, or at least the leaders, fasted for twenty-four hours, and then at sunrise entered the sweat-house for the religious rite of purification preliminary to painting themselves for the dance. The sweat-house is a small circular framework of willow branches driven into the ground and bent over and brought together at the top in such a way that when covered with blankets or buffalo robes the structure forms a diminutive round-top tipi just high enough to enable several persons to sit or to stand in a stooping posture inside. The doorway faces the east, as is the rule in Indian structures, and at the distance of a few feet in front of the doorway is a small mound of earth, on which is placed a buffalo skull, with the head turned as if looking into the lodge. The earth of which the mound is formed is taken from a hole dug in the center of the lodge. Near the sweat-house, on the outside, there is frequently a tall sacrifice pole, from the top of which are hung strips of bright-colored cloth, packages of tobacco, or other offerings to the deity invoked by the devotee on any particular occasion.

The sweat bath is in frequent use, both as a religious rite of purification and as a hygienic treatment. Like everything else in Indian life, even the sanitary application is attended with much detail of religious ceremony. Fresh bundles of the fragrant wild sage are strewn upon the ground inside of the sweat-house, and a fire is kindled outside a short distance away. In this fire stones are heated by the medicine-men, and when all is ready the patient or devotee, stripped to the breechcloth, enters the sweat-house. The stones are then handed in to him by the priests by means of two forked sticks, cut especially for the purpose, and with two other forked sticks he puts the stones into the hole already mentioned as having been dug in the center of the lodge. Water is then passed in to him, which he pours over the hot stones until the whole interior is filled with steam; the blankets are pulled tight to close every opening, and he sits in this aboriginal Turkish bath until his naked body is dripping with perspiration. During this time the doctors outside are doing their part in the way of praying to the gods and keeping up the supply of hot stones and water until in their estimation he has been sufficiently purified, physically or morally, when he emerges and resumes his clothing, sometimes first checking the perspiration and inducing a reaction by a plunge into the neighboring stream. The sweat bath in one form or another was common to almost every tribe in the United States, but as an accompaniment to the Ghost dance it seems to have been used only by the Sioux. It may have been used in this connection among the Shoshoni or northern Cheyenne, but was not among any of the tribes of the southern plains. The Ghost-dance sweat-house of the Sioux was frequently made sufficiently large to accommodate a considerable number of persons standing inside at the same time.

After the sweating ceremony the dancer was painted by the medicine-men who acted as leaders, of whom Sitting Bull was accounted the greatest among the Sioux. The design and color varied with the individual, being frequently determined by a previous trance vision of the subject, but circles, crescents, and crosses, representing respectively the sun, the moon, and the morning star, were always favorite figures upon forehead, face, and cheeks. As this was not a naked dance, the rest of the body was not usually painted. After the painting the dancer was robed in the sacred ghost shirt already described. This also was painted with, symbolic figures, among which were usually represented sun, moon, or stars, the eagle, magpie, crow, or sage-hen, all sacred to the Ghost dance among the Sioux. In connection with the painting the face and body were rubbed with the sweet-smelling vernal grass (Hierochloe), used for this purpose by many of the prairie tribes, and sometimes also burned as incense in their sacred ceremonies or carried as a perfume in small pouches attached to the clothing.

The painting occupied most of the morning, so that it was about noon before the participants formed the circle for the dance. Among the Sioux, unlike the southern and western tribes generally, a small tree was planted in the center of the circle, with an American flag or colored streamers floating from the top. Around the base of this tree sat the priests. At a great dance at No Water’s camp on White river near Pine Ridge, shortly before the arrival of the troops, a young woman standing within the circle gave the signal for the performance by shooting into the air toward the cardinal points four sacred arrows, made after the old primitive fashion with bone heads, and dipped in the blood of a steer before being brought to the dance. These were then gathered up and tied to the branches of the tree, together with the bow, a gaming wheel and sticks, and a peculiar staff or wand with horns. (See plates +XC+, +XCI+.) Another young woman, or the same one, remained standing near the tree throughout the dance, holding a sacred redstone pipe stretched out toward the west, the direction from which the messiah was to appear.

At the beginning the performers, men and women, sat on the ground in a large circle around the tree. A plaintive chant was then sung, after which a vessel of some sacred food was passed around the circle until everyone had partaken, when, at a signal by the priests, the dancers rose to their feet, joined hands, and began to chant the opening song and move slowly around the circle from right to left. The rest of the performance, with its frenzies, trances, and recitals of visions, was the same as with the southern tribes, as will be described in detail hereafter. Like these tribes also, the Sioux usually selected Sunday, the great medicine day of the white man, for the ceremony.

* * * * *

We come now to the Sioux outbreak of 1890, but before going into the history of this short but costly war it is appropriate to state briefly the causes of the outbreak. In the documentary appendix to this chapter these causes are fully set forth by competent authorities—civilian, military, missionary, and Indian. They may be summarized as (1) unrest of the conservative element under the decay of the old life, (2) repeated neglect of promises made by the government, and (3) hunger.

The Sioux are the largest and strongest tribe within the United States. In spite of wars, removals, and diminished food supply since the advent of the white man, they still number nearly 26,000. In addition to these there are about 600 more residing in Canada. They formerly held the headwaters of the Mississippi, extending eastward almost to Lake Superior, but were driven into the prairie about two centuries ago by their enemies, the Ojibwa, after the latter had obtained firearms from the French. On coming out on the buffalo plains they became possessed of the horse, by means of which reinforcement to their own overpowering numbers the Sioux were soon enabled to assume the offensive, and in a short time had made themselves the undisputed masters of an immense territory extending, in a general way, from Minnesota to the Rocky mountains and from the Yellowstone to the Platte. A few small tribes were able to maintain their position within these limits, but only by keeping close to their strongly built permanent villages on the Missouri. Millions of buffalo to furnish unlimited food supply, thousands of horses, and hundreds of miles of free range made the Sioux, up to the year 1868, the richest and most prosperous, the proudest, and withal, perhaps, the wildest of all the tribes of the plains.

In that year, in pursuance of a policy inaugurated for bringing all the plains tribes under the direct control of the government, a treaty was negotiated with the Sioux living west of the Missouri by which they renounced their claims to a great part of their territory and had “set apart for their absolute and undisturbed use and occupation”—so the treaty states—a reservation which embraced all of the present state of South Dakota west of Missouri river. At the same time agents were appointed and agencies established for them; annuities and rations, cows, physicians, farmers, teachers, and other good things were promised them, and they agreed to allow railroad routes to be surveyed and built and military posts to be established in their territory and neighborhood. At one stroke they were reduced from a free nation to dependent wards of the government. It was stipulated also that they should be allowed to hunt within their old range, outside the limits of the reservation, so long as the buffalo abounded—a proviso which, to the Indians, must have meant forever.

The reservation thus established was an immense one, and would have been ample for all the Sioux while being gradually educated toward civilization, could the buffalo have remained and the white man kept away. But the times were changing. The building of the railroads brought into the plains swarms of hunters and emigrants, who began to exterminate the buffalo at such a rate that in a few years the Sioux, with all the other hunting tribes of the plains, realized that their food supply was rapidly going. Then gold was discovered in the Black hills, within the reservation, and at once thousands of miners and other thousands of lawless desperadoes rushed into the country in defiance of the protests of the Indians and the pledges of the government, and the Sioux saw their last remaining hunting ground taken from them. The result was the Custer war and massacre, and a new agreement in 1876 by which the Sioux were shorn of one-third of their guaranteed reservation, including the Black hills, and this led to deep and widespread dissatisfaction throughout the tribe. The conservatives brooded over the past and planned opposition to further changes which they felt themselves unable to meet. The progressives felt that the white man’s promises meant nothing.

On this point Commissioner Morgan says, in his statement of the causes of the outbreak:

Prior to the agreement of 1876 buffalo and deer were the main support of the Sioux. Food, tents, bedding were the direct outcome of hunting, and with furs and pelts as articles of barter or exchange it was easy for the Sioux to procure whatever constituted for them the necessaries, the comforts, or even the luxuries of life. Within eight years from the agreement of 1876 the buffalo had gone and the Sioux had left to them alkali land and government rations. It is hard to overestimate the magnitude of the calamity, as they viewed it, which happened to these people by the sudden disappearance of the buffalo and the large diminution in the numbers of deer and other wild animals. Suddenly, almost without warning, they were expected at once and without previous training to settle down to the pursuits of agriculture in a land largely unfitted for such use. The freedom of the chase was to be exchanged for the idleness of the camp. The boundless range was to be abandoned for the circumscribed reservation, and abundance of plenty to be supplanted by limited and decreasing government subsistence and supplies. Under these circumstances it is not in human nature not to be discontented and restless, even turbulent and violent. (Comr., 28.)

It took our own Aryan ancestors untold centuries to develop from savagery into civilization. Was it reasonable to expect that the Sioux could do the same in fourteen years?

The white population in the Black hills had rapidly increased, and it had become desirable to open communication between eastern and western Dakota. To accomplish this, it was proposed to cut out the heart of the Sioux reservation, and in 1882, only six years after the Black hills had been seized, the Sioux were called on to surrender more territory. A commission was sent out to treat with them, but the price offered—only about 8 cents per acre—was so absurdly small, and the methods used so palpably unjust, that friends of the Indians interposed and succeeded in defeating the measure in Congress. Another agreement was prepared, but experience had made the Indians suspicious, and it was not until a third commission went out, under the chairmanship of General Crook, known to the Indians as a brave soldier and an honorable man, that the Sioux consented to treat. (Welsh, 1.) The result, after much effort on the part of the commission and determined opposition by the conservatives, was another agreement, in 1889, by which the Sioux surrendered one-half (about 11,000,000 acres) of their remaining territory, and the great reservation was cut up into five smaller ones, the northern and southern reservations being separated by a strip 60 miles wide.

Then came a swift accumulation of miseries. Dakota is an arid country with thin soil and short seasons. Although well adapted to grazing it is not suited to agriculture, as is sufficiently proven by the fact that the white settlers in that and the adjoining state of Nebraska have several times been obliged to call for state or federal assistance on account of failure of crops. To wild Indians hardly in from the warpath the problem was much more serious. As General Miles points out in his official report, thousands of white settlers after years of successive failures had given up the struggle and left the country, but the Indians, confined to reservations, were unable to emigrate, and were also as a rule unable to find employment, as the whites might, by which they could earn a subsistence. The buffalo was gone. They must depend on their cattle, their crops, and the government rations issued in return for the lands they had surrendered. If these failed, they must starve. The highest official authorities concur in the statement that all of these did fail, and that the Indians were driven to outbreak by starvation. (See appendix to this chapter.)

In 1888 their cattle had been diminished by disease. In 1889 their crops were a failure, owing largely to the fact that the Indians had been called into the agency in the middle of the farming season and kept there to treat with the commission, going back afterward to find their fields trampled and torn up by stock during their absence. Then followed epidemics of measles, grippe, and whooping cough, in rapid succession and with terribly fatal results. Anyone who understands the Indian character needs not the testimony of witnesses to know the mental effect thus produced. Sullenness and gloom, amounting almost to despair, settled down on the Sioux, especially among the wilder portion. “The people said their children were all dying from the face of the earth, and they might as well be killed at once.” Then came another entire failure of crops in 1890, and an unexpected reduction of rations, and the Indians were brought face to face with starvation. They had been expressly and repeatedly told by the commission that their rations would not be affected by their signing the treaty, but immediately on the consummation of the agreement Congress cut down their beef rations by 2,000,000 pounds at Rosebud, 1,000,000 at Pine Ridge, and in less proportion at other agencies. Earnest protest against this reduction was made by the commission which had negotiated the treaty, by Commissioner Morgan, and by General Miles, but still Congress failed to remedy the matter until the Sioux had actually been driven to rebellion. As Commissioner Morgan states, “It was not until January, 1891, after the troubles, that an appropriation of $100,000 was made by Congress for additional beef for the Sioux.” The protest of the commission, a full year before the outbreak, as quoted by Commissioner Morgan (see page 829), is strong and positive on this point.

Commissioner Morgan, while claiming that the Sioux had before been receiving more rations than they were justly entitled to according to their census number, and denying that the reduction was such as to cause even extreme suffering, yet states that the reduction was especially unwise at this juncture, as it was in direct violation of the promises made to the Indians, and would be used as an argument by those opposed to the treaty to show that the government cared nothing for the Indians after it had obtained their lands. It is quite possible that the former number of rations was greater than the actual number of persons, as it is always a difficult matter to count roving Indians, and the difficulties were greater when the old census was made. The census is taken at long intervals and the tendency is nearly always toward a decrease. Furthermore, it has usually been the policy with agents to hold their Indians quiet by keeping them as well fed as possible. On the other hand, it must be remembered that the issue is based on the weight of the cattle as delivered at the agency in the fall, and that months of exposure to a Dakota winter will reduce this weight by several hundred pounds to the animal. The official investigation by Captain Hurst at Cheyenne River agency shows conclusively that the essential food items of meat, flour, and coffee were far below the amount stipulated by the treaty. (See page 837.)

In regard to the effect of this food deficiency Bishop Hare says: “The people were often hungry and, the physicians in many cases said, died, when taken sick, not so much from disease as for want of food.” General Miles says: “The fact that they had not received sufficient food is admitted by the agents and the officers of the government who have had opportunities of knowing,” and in another place he states that in spite of crop failures and other difficulties, after the sale of the reservation “instead of an increase, or even a reasonable supply for their support, they have been compelled to live on half and two-thirds rations and received nothing for the surrender of their lands.” The testimony from every agency is all to the same effect.

There were other causes of dissatisfaction, some local and others general and chronic, which need not be detailed here. Some of these are treated in the documents appended to this chapter. Prominent among them were the failure of Congress to make payment of the money due the Sioux for the lands recently ceded, or to have the new lines surveyed promptly so that the Indians might know what was still theirs and select their allotments accordingly; failure to reimburse the friendly Indians for horses confiscated fourteen years before; the tardy arrival of annuities, consisting largely of winter clothing, which according to the treaty were due by the 1st of August, but which seldom arrived until the middle of winter; the sweeping and frequent changes of agency employees from the agent down, preventing anything like a systematic working out of any consistent policy, and almost always operating against the good of the service, especially at Pine Ridge, where so brave and efficient a man as McGillycuddy was followed by such a one as Royer—and, finally, the Ghost dance.

The Ghost dance itself, in the form which it assumed among the Sioux, was only a symptom and expression of the real causes of dissatisfaction, and with such a man as McGillycuddy or McLaughlin in charge at Pine Ridge there would have been no outbreak, in spite of broken promises and starvation, and the Indians could have been controlled until Congress had afforded relief. That it was not the cause of the outbreak is sufficiently proved by the fact that there was no serious trouble, excepting on the occasion of the attempt to arrest Sitting Bull, on any other of the Sioux reservations, and none at all among any of the other Ghost-dancing tribes from the Missouri to the Sierras, although the doctrine and the dance were held by nearly every tribe within that area and are still held by the more important. Among the Paiute, where the doctrine originated and the messiah has his home, there was never the slightest trouble. It is significant that Commissioner Morgan in his official statement of the causes of the outbreak places the “messiah craze” eleventh in a list of twelve, the twelfth being the alarm created by the appearance of troops. The Sioux outbreak of 1890 was due entirely to local grievances, recent or long standing. The remedy and preventive for similar trouble in the future is sufficiently indicated in the appended statements of competent authorities.

APPENDIX—CAUSES OF THE OUTBREAK

COMMISSIONER MORGAN’S STATEMENT

[_From the Report of the Commissioner of Indian Affairs for 1891, Vol. I, 132–135._]

In stating the events which led to this outbreak among the Sioux, the endeavor too often has been merely to find some opportunity for locating blame. The causes are complex, and many are obscure and remote. Among them may be named the following:

First. A feeling of unrest and apprehension in the mind of the Indians has naturally grown out of the rapid advance in civilization and the great changes which this advance has necessitated in their habits and mode of life.

Second. Prior to the agreement of 1876 buffalo and deer were the main support of the Sioux. Food, tents, bedding were the direct outcome of hunting, and, with furs and pelts as articles of barter or exchange, it was easy for the Sioux to procure whatever constituted for them the necessaries, the comforts, or even the luxuries of life. Within eight years from the agreement of 1876 the buffalo had gone, and the Sioux had left to them alkali land and government rations. It is hard to overestimate the magnitude of the calamity, as they viewed it, which happened to these people by the sudden disappearance of the buffalo and the large diminution in the numbers of deer and other wild animals. Suddenly, almost without warning, they were expected at once and without previous training to settle down to the pursuits of agriculture in a land largely unfitted for such use. The freedom of the chase was to be exchanged for the idleness of the camp. The boundless range was to be abandoned for the circumscribed reservation, and abundance of plenty to be supplanted by limited and decreasing government subsistence and supplies. Under these circumstances it is not in human nature not to be discontented and restless, even turbulent and violent.

Third. During a long series of years, treaties, agreements, cessions of land and privileges, and removals of bands and agencies have kept many of the Sioux, particularly those at Pine Ridge and Rosebud, in an unsettled condition, especially as some of the promises made them were fulfilled tardily or not at all. (A brief history of negotiations with the Sioux was given in my letter of December 24, 1890, to the Department, which will be found in the appendix, page 182.)

Fourth. The very large reduction of the great Sioux reservation, brought about by the Sioux commission through the consent of the large majority of the adult males, was bitterly opposed by a large, influential minority. For various reasons, they regarded the cession as unwise, and did all in their power to prevent its consummation, and afterwards were constant in their expressions of dissatisfaction and in their endeavors to awaken a like feeling in the minds of those who signed the agreement.

Fifth. There was diminution and partial failure of the crops for 1889, by reason of their neglect by the Indians, who were congregated in large numbers at the council with the Sioux commission, and a further diminution of ordinary crops by the drought of 1890. Also, in 1888, the disease of black leg appeared among the cattle of the Indians.

Sixth. At this time, by delayed and reduced appropriations, the Sioux rations were temporarily cut down. Rations were not diminished to such an extent as to bring the Indians to starvation or even extreme suffering, as has been often reported; but short rations came just after the Sioux commission had negotiated the agreement for the cession of lands, and, as a condition of securing the signatures of the majority, had assured the Indians that their rations would be continued unchanged. To this matter the Sioux commission called special attention in their report dated December 24, 1889, as follows:

“During our conference at the different agencies we were repeatedly asked whether the acceptance or rejection of the act of Congress would influence the action of the government with reference to their rations, and in every instance the Indians were assured that subsistence was furnished in accordance with former treaties, and that signing would not affect their rations, and that they would continue to receive them as provided in former treaties. Without our assurances to this effect it would have been impossible to have secured their consent to the cession of their lands. Since our visit to the agencies it appears that large reductions have been made in the amounts of beef furnished for issues, amounting at Rosebud to 2,000,000 pounds and at Pine Ridge to 1,000,000 pounds, and lesser amounts at the other agencies. This action of the Department, following immediately after the successful issue of our negotiations, can not fail to have an injurious effect. It will be impossible to convince the Indians that the reduction is not due to the fact that the government, having obtained their land, has less concern in looking after their material interests than before. It will be looked upon as a breach of faith and especially as a violation of the express statements of the commissioners. Already this action is being used by the Indians opposed to the bill, notably at Pine Ridge, as an argument in support of the wisdom of their opposition.”

In forwarding this report to Congress the Department called special attention to the above-quoted statements of the commission and said: “The commission further remarks that as to the quality of the rations furnished there seems to be no just cause for complaint, but that it was particularly to be avoided that there should be any diminution of the rations promised under the former treaties at this time, as the Indians would attribute it to their assent to the bill. Such diminution certainly should not be allowed, as the government is bound in good faith to carry into effect the former treaties where not directly and positively affected by the act, and if under the provisions of the treaty itself the ration is at any time reduced, the commissioners recommend that the Indians should be notified before spring opens, so that crops may be cultivated. It is desirable that the recent reduction made should be restored, as it is now impossible to convince the Indians that it was not due to the fact that the government, having obtained their lands, had less concern in looking after their material interests.”

Notwithstanding this plea of the commission and of the Department, the appropriation made for the subsistence and civilization of the Sioux for 1890 was only $950,000, or $50,000 less than the amount estimated and appropriated for 1888 and 1889, and the appropriation not having been made until August 19, rations had to be temporarily purchased and issued in limited quantities pending arrival of new supplies to be secured from that appropriation. It was not until January, 1891, after the troubles, that an appropriation of $100,000 was made by Congress for additional beef for the Sioux.

Seventh. Other promises made by the Sioux commission and the agreement were not promptly fulfilled; among them were increase of appropriations for education, for which this office had asked an appropriation of $150,000; the payment of $200,000 in compensation for ponies taken from the Sioux in 1876 and 1877; and the reimbursement of the Crow Creek Indians for a reduction made in their per capita allowance of land, as compared with the amount allowed other Sioux, which called for an appropriation of $187,039. The fulfillment of all these promises except the last named was contained in the act of January 19, 1891.

Eighth. In 1889 and 1890 epidemics of la grippe, measles, and whooping cough, followed by many deaths, added to the gloom and misfortune which seemed to surround the Indians.

Ninth. The wording of the agreement changed the boundary line between the Rosebud and Pine Ridge diminished reservations and necessitated a removal of a portion of the Rosebud Indians from the lands which, by the agreement, were included in the Pine Ridge reservation to lands offered them in lieu thereof upon the diminished Rosebud reserve. This, although involving no great hardship to any considerable number, added to the discontent.

Tenth. Some of the Indians were greatly opposed to the census which Congress ordered should be taken. The census at Rosebud, as reported by Special Agent Lea and confirmed by a special census taken by Agent Wright, revealed the somewhat startling fact that rations had been issued to Indians very largely in excess of the number actually present, and this diminution of numbers as shown by the census necessitated a diminution of the rations, which was based, of course, upon the census.

Eleventh. The Messiah craze, which fostered the belief that “ghost shirts” would be invulnerable to bullets, and that the supremacy of the Indian race was assured, added to discontent the fervor of fanaticism and brought those who accepted the new faith into the attitude of sullen defiance, but defensive rather than aggressive.

Twelfth. The sudden appearance of military upon their reservation gave rise to the wildest rumors among the Indians of danger and disaster, which were eagerly circulated by disaffected Indians and corroborated by exaggerated accounts in the newspapers, and these and other influences connected with and inseparable from military movements frightened many Indians away from their agencies into the bad lands and largely intensified whatever spirit of opposition to the government existed.

EX-AGENT McGILLYCUDDY’S STATEMENT

[Letter of Dr V. T. McGillycuddy, formerly agent at Pine Ridge, written in reply to inquiry from General L. W. Colby, commanding Nebraska state troops during the outbreak, and dated January 15, 1891. From article on “The Sioux Indian War of 1890–91,” by General L. W. Colby, in Transactions and Reports of the Nebraska State Historical Society, III, 1892, pages 176–180.]

+Sir+: In answer to your inquiry of a recent date, I would state that in my opinion to no one cause can be attributed the recent so-called outbreak on the part of the Sioux, but rather to a combination of causes gradually cumulative in their effect and dating back through many years—in fact to the inauguration of our practically demonstrated faulty Indian policy.

There can be no question but that many of the treaties, agreements, or solemn promises made by our government with these Indians have been broken. Many of them have been kept by us technically, but as far as the Indian is concerned have been misunderstood by him through a lack of proper explanation at time of signing, and hence considered by him as broken.

It must also be remembered that in all of the treaties made by the government with the Indians, a large portion of them have not agreed to or signed the same. Noticeably was this so in the agreement secured by us with them the summer before last, by which we secured one-half of the remainder of the Sioux reserve, amounting to about 16,000 square miles. This agreement barely carried with the Sioux nation as a whole, but did not carry at Pine Ridge or Rosebud, where the strong majority were against it; and it must be noted that wherever there was the strongest opposition manifested to the recent treaty, there, during the present trouble, have been found the elements opposed to the government.

The Sioux nation, which at one time, with the confederated bands of Cheyennes and Arapahos, controlled a region of country bounded on the north by the Yellowstone, on the south by the Arkansas, and reaching from the Missouri river to the Rocky mountains, has seen this large domain, under the various treaties, dwindle down to their now limited reserve of less than 16,000 square miles, and with the land has disappeared the buffalo and other game. The memory of this, chargeable by them to the white man, necessarily irritates them.

There is back of all this the natural race antagonism which our dealings with the aborigine in connection with the inevitable onward march of civilization has in no degree lessened. It has been our experience, and the experience of other nations, that defeat in war is soon, not sooner or later, forgotten by the coming generation, and as a result we have a tendency to a constant recurrence of outbreak on the part of the weaker race. It is now sixteen years since our last war with the Sioux in 1876—a time when our present Sioux warriors were mostly children, and therefore have no memory of having felt the power of the government. It is but natural that these young warriors, lacking in experience, should require but little incentive to induce them to test the bravery of the white man on the war path, where the traditions of his people teach him is the only path to glory and a chosen seat in the “happy hunting grounds.” For these reasons every precaution should be adopted by the government to guard against trouble with its disastrous results. Have such precautions been adopted? Investigation of the present trouble does not so indicate.

Sitting Bull and other irreconcilable relics of the campaign of 1876 were allowed to remain among their people and foment discord. The staple article of food at Pine Ridge and some of the other agencies had been cut down below the subsisting point, noticeably the beef at Pine Ridge, which from an annual treaty allowance of 6,250,000 pounds gross was cut down to 4,000,000 pounds. The contract on that beef was violated, insomuch as that contract called for northern ranch beef, for which was substituted through beef from Texas, with an unparalleled resulting shrinkage in winter, so that the Indians did not actually receive half ration of this food in winter—the very time the largest allowance of food is required. By the fortunes of political war, weak agents were placed in charge of some of the agencies at the very time that trouble was known to be brewing. Noticeably was this so at Pine Ridge, where a notoriously weak and unfit man was placed in charge. His flight, abandonment of his agency, and his call for troops have, with the horrible results of the same, become facts in history.

Now, as for facts in connection with Pine Ridge, which agency has unfortunately become the theater of the present “war,” was there necessity for troops? My past experience with those Indians does not so indicate. For seven long years, from 1879 to 1886, I, as agent, managed this agency without the presence of a soldier on the reservation, and none nearer than 60 miles, and in those times the Indians were naturally much wilder than they are to-day. To be sure, during the seven years we occasionally had exciting times, when the only thing lacking to cause an outbreak was the calling for troops by the agent and the presence of the same. As a matter of fact, however, no matter how much disturbed affairs were, no matter how imminent an outbreak, the progressive chiefs, with their following, came to the front enough in the majority, with the fifty Indian policemen, to at once crush out all attempts at rebellion against the authority of the agent and the government.

Why was this? Because in those times we believed in placing confidence in the Indians; in establishing, as far as possible, a home-rule government on the reservation. We established local courts, presided over by the Indians, with Indian juries; in fact, we believed in having the Indians assist in working out their own salvation. We courted and secured the friendship and support of the progressive and orderly element, as against the mob element. Whether the system thus inaugurated was practicable, was successful, comparison with recent events will decide.

When my Democratic successor took charge in 1886, he deemed it necessary to make general changes in the system at Pine Ridge, i. e., a Republican system. All white men, half-breeds, or Indians who had sustained the agent under the former administration were classed as Republicans and had to go. The progressive chiefs, such as Young Man Afraid, Little Wound, and White Bird, were ignored, and the backing of the element of order and progress was alienated from the agent and the government, and in the place of this strong backing that had maintained order for seven years was substituted Red Cloud and other nonprogressive chiefs, sustainers of the ancient tribal system.

If my successor had been other than an amateur, or had had any knowledge or experience in the inside Indian politics of an Indian tribe, he would have known that if the element he was endeavoring to relegate to the rear had not been the balance of power, I could not for seven years have held out against the mob element which he now sought to put in power. In other words, he unwittingly threw the balance of power at Pine Ridge against the government, as he later on discovered to his cost. When still later he endeavored to maintain order and suppress the ghost dance, the attempt resulted in a most dismal failure.

The Democratic agent was succeeded in October last by the recently removed Republican agent, a gentleman totally ignorant of Indians and their peculiarities; a gentleman with not a qualification in his make-up calculated to fit him for the position of agent at one of the largest and most difficult agencies in the service to manage; a man selected solely as a reward for political services. He might possibly have been an average success as an Indian agent at a small, well-regulated agency. He endeavored to strengthen up matters, but the chiefs and leaders who could have assisted him in so doing had been alienated by the former agent. They virtually said among themselves, “We, after incurring the enmity of the bad element among our people by sustaining the government, have been ignored and ill-treated by that government, hence this is not our affair.” Being ignorant of the situation, he had no one to depend on. In his first clash with the mob element he discovered that the Pine Ridge police, formerly the finest in the service, were lacking in discipline and courage, and, not being well supplied with those necessary qualities himself, he took the bluff of a mob for a declaration of war, abandoned his agency, returned with troops—and you see the result.

As for the ghost dance, too much attention has been paid to it. It was only the symptom or surface indication of deep-rooted, long-existing difficulty; as well treat the eruption of smallpox as the disease and ignore the constitutional disease.

As regards disarming the Sioux, however desirable it may appear, I consider it neither advisable nor practicable. I fear that it will result as the theoretical enforcement of prohibition in Kansas, Iowa, and Dakota; you will succeed in disarming the friendly Indians, because you can, and you will not so succeed with the mob element, because you can not. If I were again to be an Indian agent and had my choice, I would take charge of 10,000 armed Sioux in preference to a like number of disarmed ones; and, furthermore, agree to handle that number, or the whole Sioux nation, without a white soldier.

Respectfully, etc., +V. T. McGillycuddy+.

P.S.—I neglected to state that up to date there has been neither a Sioux outbreak nor war. No citizen in Nebraska or Dakota has been killed, molested, or can show the scratch of a pin, and no property has been destroyed off the reservation.

STATEMENT OF GENERAL MILES

[From the Report of the Secretary of War for 1891, Vol. I, pp. 133, 134, and 149. He enumerates specific causes of complaint at each of the principal Sioux agencies, all of which causes may be summarized as hunger and unfulfilled promises.]

Cause of Indian dissatisfaction.—The causes that led to the serious disturbance of the peace in the northwest last autumn and winter were so remarkable that an explanation of them is necessary in order to comprehend the seriousness of the situation. The Indians assuming the most threatening attitude of hostility were the Cheyennes and Sioux. Their condition may be stated as follows: For several years following their subjugation in 1877, 1878, and 1879 the most dangerous element of the Cheyennes and the Sioux were under military control. Many of them were disarmed and dismounted; their war ponies were sold and the proceeds returned to them in domestic stock, farming utensils, wagons, etc. Many of the Cheyennes, under the charge of military officers, were located on land in accordance with the laws of Congress, but after they were turned over to civil agents and the vast herds of buffalo and large game had been destroyed their supplies were insufficient, and they were forced to kill cattle belonging to white people to sustain life.

The fact that they had not received sufficient food is admitted by the agents and the officers of the government who have had opportunities of knowing. The majority of the Sioux were under the charge of civil agents, frequently changed and often inexperienced. Many of the tribes became rearmed and remounted. They claimed that the government had not fulfilled its treaties and had failed to make large enough appropriations for their support; that they had suffered for want of food, and the evidence of this is beyond question and sufficient to satisfy any unprejudiced intelligent mind. The statements of officers, inspectors, both of the military and the Interior departments, of agents, of missionaries, and civilians familiar with their condition, leave no room for reasonable doubt that this was one of the principal causes. While statements may be made as to the amount of money that has been expended by the government to feed the different tribes, the manner of distributing those appropriations will furnish one reason for the deficit.

The unfortunate failure of the crops in the plains country during the years of 1889 and 1890 added to the distress and suffering of the Indians, and it was possible for them to raise but very little from the ground for self-support; in fact, white settlers have been most unfortunate, and their losses have been serious and universal throughout a large section of that country. They have struggled on from year to year; occasionally they would raise good crops, which they were compelled to sell at low prices, while in the season of drought their labor was almost entirely lost. So serious have been their misfortunes that thousands have left that country within the last few years, passing over the mountains to the Pacific slope or returning to the east of the Missouri or the Mississippi.

The Indians, however, could not migrate from one part of the United States to another; neither could they obtain employment as readily as white people, either upon or beyond the Indian reservations. They must remain in comparative idleness and accept the results of the drought—an insufficient supply of food. This created a feeling of discontent even among the loyal and well disposed and added to the feeling of hostility of the element opposed to every process of civilization.

Reports forwarded by Brigadier-General Ruger, commanding Department of Dakota, contained the following:

The commanding officer at Fort Yates, North Dakota, under date of December 7, 1890, at the time the Messiah delusion was approaching a climax, says, in reference to the disaffection of the Sioux Indians at Standing Rock agency, that it is due to the following causes:

(1) Failure of the government to establish an equitable southern boundary of the Standing Rock agency reservation.

(2) Failure of the government to expend a just proportion of the money received from the Chicago, Milwaukee and St. Paul railroad company, for right of way privileges, for the benefit of the Indians of said agency. Official notice was received October 18, 1881, by the Indian agent at the Standing Rock agency, that the said railroad company had paid the government under its agreement with the Sioux Indians, for right of way privileges, the sum of $13,911. What additional payments, if any, have been made by the said railroad company, and what payments have been made by the Dakota Central railroad company, the records of the agency do not show. In 1883, and again in 1885, the agent, upon complaints made by the Indians, wrote to the Commissioner of Indian Affairs, making certain recommendations as regards the expenditure of the money received from the said railroad company, but was in each instance informed that until Congress took action with respect to the funds referred to nothing could be done. No portion of the money had been expended up to that time (December, 1890) for the benefit of the Indians of the agency, and frequent complaints had been made to the agent by the Indians because they had received no benefits from their concessions to the said railroad companies.

(3) Failure of the government to issue the certificates of title to allotments, as required by article 6 of the treaty of 1868.

(4) Failure of the government to provide the full allowance of seeds and agricultural implements to Indians engaged in farming, as required in article 8, treaty of 1868.

(5) Failure of the government to issue to such Indians the full number of cows and oxen provided in article 10, treaty of 1876.

(7) Failure of the government to issue to the Indians the full ration stipulated in article 5, treaty of 1876. (For the fiscal year beginning July 1, 1890, the following shortages in the rations were found to exist: 485,275 pounds of beef [gross], 761,212 pounds of corn, 11,937 pounds of coffee, 281,712 pounds of flour, 26,234 pounds of sugar, and 39,852 pounds of beans. Although the obligations of the government extend no further than furnishing so much of the ration prescribed in article 5 as may be necessary for the support of the Indians, it would seem that, owing to the almost total failure of crops upon the Standing Rock reservation for the past four years, and the absence of game, the necessity for the issue of the full ration to the Indians here was never greater than at the present time—December, 1890.)

(8) Failure of the government to issue to the Indians the full amount of annuity supplies to which they were entitled under the provisions of article 10, treaty of 1868.

(9) Failure of the government to have the clothing and other annuity supplies ready for issue on the first day of August of each year. Such supplies have not been ready for issue to the Indians, as a rule, until the winter season is well advanced. (After careful examination at this agency, the commanding officer is convinced that not more than two-thirds of the supplies provided in article 10 have been issued there, and the government has never complied with that provision of article 10 which requires the supplies enumerated in paragraphs 2, 3, and 4 of said article to be delivered on or before the first day of August of each year. Such supplies for the present fiscal year, beginning July 1, 1890, had not yet reached (December, 1890) the nearest railway station, about 60 miles distant, from which point they must, at this season of the year, be freighted to this agency in wagons. It is now certain that the winter will be well advanced before the Indians at this agency receive their annual allowance of clothing and other annuity supplies.)

(10) Failure of the government to appropriate money for the payment of the Indians for the ponies taken from them, by the authority of the government, in 1876.

In conclusion, the commanding officer says: “It, however, appears from the foregoing, that the government has failed to fulfill its obligations, and in order to render the Indians law-abiding, peaceful, contented, and prosperous it is strongly recommended that the treaties be promptly and fully carried out, and that the promises made by the commission in 1889 be faithfully kept.”

[_The reports from Pine Ridge, Rosebud, Cheyenne River, and Yankton agencies are of similar tenor. Following are two telegrams sent from the field by General Miles at the beginning of the trouble._]

+Rapid City, South Dakota+, December 19, 1890.

Senator +Dawes+, Washington, District of Columbia:

You may be assured of the following facts that can not be gainsaid:

First. The forcing process of attempting to make large bodies of Indians self-sustaining when the government was cutting down their rations and their crops almost a failure, is one cause of the difficulty.

Second. While the Indians were urged and almost forced to sign a treaty presented to them by the commission authorized by Congress, in which they gave up a valuable portion of their reservation which is now occupied by white people, the government has failed to fulfill its part of the compact, and instead of an increase or even a reasonable supply for their support, they have been compelled to live on half and two-thirds rations, and received nothing for the surrender of their lands, neither has the government given any positive assurance that they intend to do any differently with them in the future.

Congress has been in session several weeks and could, if it were disposed, in a few hours confirm the treaties that its commissioners have made with these Indians and appropriate the necessary funds for its fulfillment, and thereby give an earnest of their good faith or intention to fulfill their part of the compact. Such action, in my judgment, is essential to restore confidence with the Indians and give peace and protection to the settlements. If this be done, and the President authorized to place the turbulent and dangerous tribes of Indians under the control of the military, Congress need not enter into details, but can safely trust the military authorities to subjugate and govern, and in the near future make self-sustaining, any or all of the Indian tribes of this country.

+Rapid City, South Dakota+, December 19, 1890.

General +John M. Schofield+, Commanding the Army, Washington, District of Columbia:

Replying to your long telegram, one point is of vital importance—the difficult Indian problem can not be solved permanently at this end of the line. It requires the fulfillment by Congress of the treaty obligations which the Indians were entreated and coerced into signing. They signed away a valuable portion of their reservation, and it is now occupied by white people, for which they have received nothing. They understood that ample provision would be made for their support; instead, their supplies have been reduced, and much of the time they have been living on half and two-thirds rations. Their crops, as well as the crops of the white people, for two years have been almost a total failure. The disaffection is widespread, especially among the Sioux, while the Cheyennes have been on the verge of starvation and were forced to commit depredations to sustain life. These facts are beyond question, and the evidence is positive and sustained by thousands of witnesses. Serious difficulty has been gathering for years. Congress has been in session several weeks and could in a single hour confirm the treaties and appropriate the necessary funds for their fulfillment, which their commissioners and the highest officials of the government have guaranteed to these people, and unless the officers of the army can give some positive assurance that the government intends to act in good faith with these people, the loyal element will be diminished and the hostile element increased. If the government will give some positive assurance that it will fulfill its part of the understanding with these 20,000 Sioux Indians, they can safely trust the military authorities to subjugate, control, and govern these turbulent people, and I hope that you will ask the Secretary of War and the Chief Executive to bring this matter directly to the attention of Congress.

REPORT OF CAPTAIN HURST

(A. G. O. Doc. 6266—1891.)

+Fort Bennett, South Dakota+, January 9, 1891.

+Assistant Adjutant-General+, Department of Dakota, Saint Paul, Minnesota.

+Sir+: In compliance with instructions of the department commander—copy attached marked A—I have the honor to submit the following report as the result of my investigations into the matters referred to therein.

I have been at this post continuously since August 6, 1887, and inspector of Indian supplies at the Cheyenne River Indian agency, located here, during that period, and am at the present time.

The Indians of this agency have a standing list of grievances which they present at every opportunity, and talk about in council when they assemble at every monthly ration issue. The Indians most persistent in recounting and proclaiming their grievances are those least willing to help in bettering their condition, and who are opposed to any change or improvement of their old habits and customs, and oppose all progress. Of this class I cite Big Foot’s band of irreconcilables—who have now ceased to complain—and those in accord with them. Except in the matter of short rations, the story of their wrongs needs no attention. It commences with a recital of the wrong done them by the white race sharing the earth with them.

The other class, comprising a large majority of Indians of the reservation, have accepted the situation forced upon them, and have been for years bravely struggling in the effort to reconcile themselves to the ways of civilization and moral progress, with a gratifying degree of success. It is this class whose complaints and grievances demand considerate attention. They complain in true Indian style that they only have kept faith in all treaties made with them, and that somehow the treaties when they appeared in print were not in many respects the treaties which they signed.

They complain principally—

(1) That the boundaries of the reservation in the treaty of 1877 are not what they agreed to and thought they were signing on the paper, and they especially emphasize the point that the line of the western boundary should be a straight line at the Black Hills, instead of as it appears on the maps.

(2) That they have never received full recompense for the ponies taken from them in 1876.

(3) That the game has been destroyed and driven out of the country by the white people.

(4) That their children are taken from them to eastern schools and kept for years, instead of being educated among them.

(5) That when these eastern graduates return to them with civilized habits, education, and trades, there is no provision made on the reservation for their employment and improvement to the benefit of themselves and their people.

(6) That the agents and employees sent out to them have not all been “good men” and considerate of their (the Indians’) interests and welfare.

(7) That the issue of their annuity goods is delayed so late in the winter as to cause them much suffering.

(8) That they are expected to plow the land and raise grain when the climate will not permit them to reap a crop. They think cattle should be issued to them for breeding purposes instead of farming implements for useless labor.

(9) That the rations issued to them are insufficient in quantity and frequently (beef and flour) very poor in quality.

Complaints 2, 3, 4, 5, 7, 8, and 9 are all well founded and justified by the facts in each case, No. 9 especially so, and this through no fault or negligence of the agent. The agent makes his annual estimate for sustenance in kind for the number of people borne on his rolls, based on the stipulated ration in treaty of 1877. This estimate is modified or cut down in the Indian Commissioner’s office to meet the requirements of a limited or reduced Congressional appropriation, and when it returns to the agent’s hands approved, he finds that he has just so many pounds of beef and flour, etc, placed to his credit for the year, without regard to whether they constitute the full number of treaty rations or not. There is no allowance given him for loss by shrinkage, wastage, or other unavoidable loss, and with the very best efforts and care in the distribution throughout the year of this usually reduced allowance there can not be issued to each Indian his treaty ration nor enough to properly sustain life. As a general thing the Indians of this reservation have been compelled to purchase food according to their means, between ration issues. Those having no means of purchase have suffered.

The half pound of flour called for by the treaty ration could not be issued in full, and the half pound of corn required has never been issued nor anything in lieu of it. In the item of beef but 1 pound was issued instead of the pound and a half called for in the treaty, and during the early spring months, when the cattle on the range are thin and poor, the pound of beef issued to the Indian is but a fraction of the pound issued to him on the agent’s returns, and, under the system of purchase in practice until the present fiscal year, must necessarily be so. The agent’s purchase of the beef supply on the hoof for the year, under contract, is closed in the month of November, from which time he has to herd them the balance of the year as best he can. He is responsible for the weight they show on the scales when fat and in prime condition, so that a steer weighing 1,200 pounds in the fall must represent 1,200 pounds in April, while in fact it may be but skin, horns, and bones, and weigh scarcely 600 pounds, while he has done his best to care for them during the severity of a Dakota winter. The Indians do not understand why they should be made to suffer all this shrinkage and loss, and it is a useless and humiliating attempt to explain. The agent is not to blame. The department of Indian affairs can do only the best it can with a limited and tardy appropriation. The remedy in the matter of food supply seems to be: A sufficient and earlier appropriation of funds. All contracts for the beef supply should call for delivery when required by the agent. The agent should be allowed a percentage of wastage to cover unavoidable loss in issue by shrinkage and wastage. The government should bear this loss and not the Indians.

Complaint 1: No remarks.

Complaint 2: Is before Congress.

Complaint 4: Should be remedied by adequate home schools.

Complaint 5: Suggests its proper remedy.

Complaint 6: No remarks.

Complaint 7: Can be remedied only by earlier appropriations.

Complaint 8: This reservation is not agricultural land. The climate makes it a grazing country. The Indians now can raise cattle successfully and care for them in winter. All attempts at general farming must result in failure on account of climatic conditions.

In connection with complaint 9, I respectfully invite attention to tabular statement accompanying this report, marked B, showing rations as issued up to December 6 in present fiscal year and amount required to make the issues according to article 5, treaty of February 27, 1877, and special attention to columns 6 and 7 therein.

Appended to this report, marked C, is an extract copy of treaties of 1877 and 1868.

In submitting this report, I desire to commend the administration of the affairs of this agency, as it has appeared under my daily observation since August, 1887. So far as this reservation is concerned, the present unrest among the Indians is not attributable to any just cause of complaint against the former or present agent or employees; nor is it due entirely or largely to failure on the part of the government to fulfill treaty obligations.

Very respectfully, your obedient servant, +J. H. Hurst+, Captain, Twelfth Infantry, Commanding Post.

APPENDIX C.—EXTRACT COPY—TREATIES OF 1877 AND 1868

+Treaty of 1877+

+Article 3.+ The said Indians also agree that they will hereafter receive all annuities provided by the said treaty of 1868, and all subsistence and supplies which may be provided for them under the present or any future act of Congress, at such points and places on the said reservation and in the vicinity of the Missouri river as the President of the United States shall designate.

+Article 5.+ In consideration of the foregoing cession of territory and rights, and upon full compliance with each and every obligation assumed by the said Indians, the United States agree to provide all necessary aid to assist the said Indians in the work of civilization; to furnish to them schools and instruction in mechanical and agricultural arts, as provided for by the treaty of 1868. Also to provide the said Indians with subsistence consisting of a ration for each individual of a pound and a half of beef (or in lieu thereof, one-half pound of bacon), one-half pound of flour, and one-half pound of corn; and for every one hundred rations, four pounds of coffee, eight pounds of sugar, and three pounds of beans, or in lieu of said articles the equivalent thereof, in the discretion of the Commissioner of Indian Affairs. Such rations, or so much thereof as may be necessary, shall be continued until the Indians are able to support themselves. Rations shall in all cases be issued to the head of each separate family; and whenever schools shall have been provided by the government for said Indians, no rations shall be issued for children between the ages of six and fourteen years (the sick and infirm excepted), unless such children shall regularly attend school. Whenever the said Indians shall be located upon lands which are suitable for cultivation, rations shall be issued only to the persons and families of those persons who labor (the aged, sick, and infirm excepted); and as an incentive to industrious habits the Commissioner of Indian Affairs may provide that persons be furnished in payment for their labor such other necessary articles as are requisite for civilized life....

+Article 8.+ The provisions of the said treaty of 1868, except as herein modified, shall continue in full force....

+Treaty of 1868+

+Article 8.+ When the head of a family or lodge shall have selected lands in good faith and received a certificate therefor and commenced farming in good faith, he is to receive not to exceed one hundred dollars for the first year in seeds and agricultural implements, and for a period of three years more not to exceed twenty-five dollars in seeds and implements.

+Article 10.+ In lieu of all sums of money or other annuities provided to be paid to the Indians herein named under any treaty or treaties heretofore made, the United States agrees to deliver at the agency house on the reservation herein named on (or before) the first day of August of each year for thirty years, the following articles, to wit:

For each male person over fourteen years of age, a suit of good, substantial woolen clothing, consisting of coat, pantaloons, flannel shirt, hat, and a pair of home-made socks.

For each female over twelve years of age, a flannel skirt or the goods necessary to make it, a pair of woolen hose, twelve yards of calico, and twelve yards of cotton domestics.

For the boys and girls under the ages named, such flannel and cotton goods as may be needed to make each a suit aforesaid, with a pair of hose for each. And in addition to the clothing herein named, the sum of ten dollars for each person entitled to the beneficial effects of this treaty, shall be annually appropriated for a period of thirty years, while such persons roam and hunt, and twenty dollars for each person who engages in farming, to be used by the Secretary of the Interior in the purchase of such articles as from time to time the condition and necessities of the Indians may indicate to be proper. And if within thirty years at any time it shall appear that the amount of money needed for clothing, under this article, can be appropriated to better uses for the Indians named herein, Congress may, by law, change the appropriation to other purposes, but in no event shall the amount of the appropriation be withdrawn or discontinued for the period named.

Article 10 further stipulates that each lodge or family who shall commence farming shall receive within sixty days thereafter one good American cow and one good well-broken pair of American oxen.

_Extract from tabular statement, showing articles of subsistence received or to be received, rations as issued up to date, and amount required to make the issues according to Article 5 of treaty of February 27, 1877, in fiscal year 1891—At Cheyenne River agency, Fort Bennett, South Dakota._

+-----------------------------+----------------+------------+ | 3 | 5 | 7 | +-----------------------------+----------------+------------+ | |Quantity allowed|Quantity per| | | to 100 | 100 rations| | Name of articles. | rations up | as allowed | | | to date. | per treaty | | | | 1877. | +-----------------------------+----------------+------------+ | | Pounds. | Pounds. | |Bacon | 3 | 16⅔ | |Beans | 3 | 3 | |Baking powder | 1½ | | |Beef, gross | [a]100 | [b]100 | |Coffee | 2½-3 | 4 | |Flour | 45 | 50 | |Sugar | 4¾ | 8 | |Salt | 1 | | |Soap | 2 | | |Mess pork | 3 | | |Hard bread (in lieu of bacon)| 25 | | |Corn (in lieu of flour) | None. | 50 | +-----------------------------+----------------+------------+ [a] Net. [b] Net, or 150 without bacon.

Rations as fixed by treaty of 1877: 1½ pounds beef or ½ pound bacon; ½ pound flour and ½ pound corn; 4 pounds coffee, 8 pounds sugar, and 3 pounds beans to every 100 rations; “or, in lieu of said articles, the equivalent thereof, in the discretion of the Commissioner of Indian Affairs.”

STATEMENT OF AMERICAN HORSE

[Delivered in council at Pine Ridge, agency to Agent Royer, and forwarded to the Indian Office, November 27, 1890. G. D. Doc. 37002—1890.]

American Horse, Fast Thunder, Spotted Horse, Pretty Back, and Good Lance present, with American Horse as spokesman:

“I think the late Sioux commissioners (General Crook, Major Warner, and Governor Foster) had something to do with starting this trouble. I was speaker for the whole tribe. In a general council I signed the bill (the late Sioux bill) and 580 signed with me. The other members of my band drew out and it divided us, and ever since these two parties have been divided. The nonprogressive started the ghost dance to draw from us. We were made many promises, but have never heard from them since. The Great Father says if we do what he directs it will be to our benefit; but instead of this they are every year cutting down our rations, and we do not get enough to keep us from suffering. General Crook talked nice to us; and after we signed the bill they took our land and cut down our allowance of food. The commission made us believe that we would get full sacks if we signed the bill, but instead of that our sacks are empty. We lost considerable property by being here with the commissioners last year, and have never got anything for it. Our chickens were all stolen, our cattle some of them were killed, our crops were entirely lost by us being absent here with the Sioux commission, and we have never been benefited one bit by the bill; and, in fact, we are worse off than we were before we signed the bill. We are told if we do as white men we will be better off, but we are getting worse off every year.”

“The commissioners promised the Indians living on Black Pipe and Pass creeks that if they signed the bill they could remain where they were and draw their rations at this agency, showing them on the map the line, and our people want them here, but they have been ordered to move back to Rosebud agency. This is one of the broken promises. The commission promised to survey the boundary line, and appropriate $1,000 for the purpose, but it has not been done. When we were at Washington, the President, the Secretary of the Interior, and the Commissioner all promised us that we would get the million pounds of beef that were taken from us, and I heard the bill appropriating the money passed Congress, but we never got the beef. The Commissioner refused to give it to us. American Horse, Fast Thunder, and Spotted Horse were all promised a spring wagon each, but they have never heard anything of it. This is another broken promise.”

In forwarding the report of the council, the agent says: “After American Horse was through talking, I asked the other men present if his statement voiced their sentiments and they all answered, Yes.”

STATEMENT OF BISHOP HARE

[_Bishop W. H. Hare is the veteran Episcopal missionary bishop among the Sioux. The following extracts are from a communication by him to Secretary Noble, dated January 7, 1891. G. D. Doc. 2440—1891._]

The evidence compels the conclusion that, among the Pine Ridge Indians at least, hunger has been an important element in the causes of discontent and insubordination. In the farming season of 1889 [July] the Indians were all called into the agency and kept there for a month by the Sioux commission. During their absence their cattle broke into their fields and trod down, or ate up, their crops. The Indians reaped practically nothing. In the year 1890, drought, the worst known for many years, afflicted the western part of South Dakota, and the Indian crops were a total failure. There is ample evidence that, during this period, the rations issued lasted, even when carefully used, for only two-thirds the time for which they were intended. To add to their distress, this period, 1889 and 1890, was marked by extraordinary misfortune. The measles prevailed with great virulence in 1889, the grippe in 1890. Whooping cough also attacked the children. The sick died from want. In this statement Inspector Gardiner, Dr McGillycuddy, late agent, Miss Elaine Goodale, who has been in the camps a good deal, the missionary force, and many others whose testimony is of the highest value because of their character and their knowledge of the situation, all agree....

The time seemed now to have come to take a further step and divide the Great Sioux reservation up into separate reserves for each important tribe, and to open the surplus land to settlement. The needs of the white population, with their business and railroads, and the welfare of the Indians, seemed alike to demand this. Commissioners were therefore sent out to treat with the people for the accomplishment of this end, and an agreement which, after much debate, had won general approval was committed to them for presentation to the Indians. The objections of the Indians to the bill, however, were many and they were ardently pressed. Some preferred their old life, the more earnestly because schools and churches were sapping and undermining it. Some wished delay. All complained that many of the engagements solemnly made with them in former years when they had surrendered valued rights had been broken, and here they were right. They suspected that present promises of pay for their lands would prove only old ones in a new shape (when milch cows were promised, cows having been promised in previous agreements, the Indians exclaimed, “There’s that same old cow”), and demanded that no further surrender should be expected until former promises had been fulfilled. They were assured that a new era had dawned, and that all past promises would be kept. So we all thought. The benefits of the proposed agreement were set before them, and verbal promises, over and above the stipulations of the bill, were made, that special requests of the Indians would be met. The Indians have no competent representative body. The commissioners had to treat at each agency with a crowd, a crowd composed of full-bloods, half-breeds, and squaw men, a crowd among whom all sorts of sinister influences and brute force were at work. Commissioners with such a business in hand have the devil to fight, and can fight him, so it often seems, only with fire, and many friends of the Indians think that in this case the commission, convinced that the acceptance of the bill was essential, carried persuasion to the verge of intimidation. I do not blame them if they sometimes did. The wit and patience of an angel would fail often in such a task.

But the requisite number, three-fourths of the Indians, signed the bill, and expectation of rich and prompt rewards ran high. The Indians understand little of the complex forms and delays of our government. Six months passed, and nothing came. Three months more, and nothing came. A bill was drawn up in the Senate under General Crook’s eye and passed, providing for the fulfillment of the promises of the commission, but it was pigeon-holed in the House. But in the midst of the winter’s pinching cold the Indians learned that the transaction had been declared complete and half of their land proclaimed as thrown open to the whites. Surveys were not promptly made; perhaps they could not be, and no one knew what land was theirs and what was not. The very earth seemed sliding from beneath their feet. Other misfortunes seemed to be crowding on them. On some reserves their rations were being reduced, and lasted, even when carefully husbanded, but one-half the period for which they were issued. (The amount of beef bought for the Indians is not a fair criterion of the amount he receives. A steer will lose 200 pounds or more of its flesh during the course of the winter.) In the summer of 1889 all the people on the Pine Ridge reserve, men, women, and children, were called in from their farms to the agency to treat with the commissioners and were kept there a whole month, and, on returning to their homes, found that their cattle had broken into their fields and trampled down or eaten up all their crops. This was true in a degree elsewhere. In 1890 the crops, which promised splendidly early in July, failed entirely later, because of a severe drought. The people were often hungry, and, the physicians in many cases said, died when taken sick, not so much from disease as for want of food. (This is doubtless true of all the poor—the poor in our cities and the poor settlers in the west.)

No doubt the people could have saved themselves from suffering if industry, economy, and thrift had abounded; but these are just the virtues which a people merging from barbarism lack. The measles prevailed in 1889 and were exceedingly fatal. Next year the grippe swept over the people with appalling results. Whooping cough followed among the children. Sullenness and gloom began to gather, especially among the heathen and wilder Indians. A witness of high character told me that a marked discontent amounting almost to despair prevailed in many quarters. The people said their children were all dying from diseases brought by the whites, their race was perishing from the face of the earth, and they might as well be killed at once. Old chiefs and medicine men were losing their power. Withal new ways were prevailing more and more which did not suit the older people. The old ways which they loved were passing away. In a word, all things were against them, and to add to the calamity, many Indians, especially the wilder element, had nothing to do but to brood over their misfortunes. While in this unhappy state, the story of a messiah coming, with its ghost dance and strange hallucinations, spread among the heathen part of the people....

But these things we do want. A profound conviction in the mind not only of a few, but of the people, that the Indian problem is worth attending to. Next, that the officials placed in charge of the difficult Indian problem should be protected from the importunity of hungry politicians, and that the employees in the Indian country, agents, teachers, farmers, carpenters, should not be changed with every shuffling of the political cards. The abuse here has been shameful. Next, that Congress, especially the House of Representatives, shall consider itself bound in honor to make provision for the fulfillment of promises made to the Indians by commissioners duly appointed and sent to the Indians by another branch of the government. The evils which have arisen from a violation of this comity have been most serious. Next, that testimony regarding Indian affairs should not be swallowed until careful inquiry has been made as to the disinterestedness of the witness. An honest man out here burns with indignation when he reads in the papers that so and so, represented as being fully informed on the whole question, affirms that Indians have no grievances and ought to receive no quarter, when he knows that the lots which the witness owns in a town near the Indian country would no longer be a drug in the market if Indians could be gotten out of the way. Next, let it be remembered that the crisis has lifted evils in the Indian country up to the light, and left the good things in the shade. But the good things are real and have shown their vigor under trial. There is no reason for losing faith or courage. Let all kind and honest men unite with the higher officials of the government, all of whom, I believe, mean well, in a spirit of forbearance toward each other, of willingness to learn, and of mutual helpfulness, to accomplish the results which they all desire.

+Chapter XIII+

THE SIOUX OUTBREAK—SITTING BULL AND WOUNDED KNEE

We were made many promises, but have never heard from them since.—American Horse.

Congress has been in session several weeks and could, if it were disposed, in a few hours confirm the treaty that its commissioners have made with these Indians, and appropriate the necessary funds for their fulfillment, and thereby give an earnest of good faith or intention to fulfill their part of the compact. Such action in my judgment is essential to restore confidence with the Indians and give peace and protection to the settlements.—General Miles.

Approximate cost of outbreak in one month: Forty-nine whites and others on the government side, and three hundred Indians, killed; $1,200,000 expense to government and individuals.

Short Bull and the other Sioux delegates who had gone to see the messiah in the fall of 1889 returned in March, 1890. Short Bull, on Rosebud reservation, at once began to preach to his people the doctrine and advent of the messiah, but desisted on being warned to stop by Agent Wright. (Comr., 29.) The strange hope had taken hold of the Indians however, and the infection rapidly, although quietly, spread among all the wilder portion of the tribe. The first warning of trouble ahead came in the shape of a letter addressed to Secretary Noble by Charles L. Hyde, a citizen of Pierre, South Dakota, under date of May 29, 1890, in which he stated that he had trustworthy information that the Sioux, or a part of them, were secretly planning an outbreak in the near future. His informant appears to have been a young half-blood from Pine Ridge, who was at that time attending school in Pierre, and was in correspondence with his Indian relatives at home. (G. D., 20.) The letter was referred to the Commissioner of Indian Affairs, who forwarded a copy of it to the agents of the several western Sioux reservations, with a request for further information. They promptly and unanimously replied that there was no ground for apprehension, that the Indians were peaceably disposed, and that there was no undue excitement beyond that occasioned by the rumors of a messiah in the west. This excitement they thought would continue to increase as the predicted time drew near, and would die a natural death when the prophecy failed of its fulfillment.

All the agents are positive in the opinion that at this time, about the middle of June, 1890, the Indians had no hostile intentions. McLaughlin, the veteran agent of Standing Rock, who probably knew the Sioux better than any other white man having official relations with them, states that among his people there was nothing in word or action to justify such a suspicion, and that he did not believe such an imprudent step was seriously contemplated by any of the tribe, and concludes by saying that he has every confidence in the good intentions of the Sioux as a people, that they would not be the aggressors in any hostile act, and that if justice were only done them no uneasiness need be entertained. He complains, however, of the evil influence exercised by Sitting Bull and a few other malcontents attached to his agency and advises their removal from among the Indians. Wright, at Rosebud, also advised the removal of Crow Dog and some other mischief-makers. These men had led the opposition to the late treaty and to every advance of civilization, by which they felt their former influence undermined, and between them and the progressive party there was uncompromising hostility. (G. D., 21.) Although the trouble did come six months later, it is sufficiently evident that at this time there was no outbreak intended. Certain it is that the Sioux as a tribe—25,000 strong—did not engage in the outbreak, and in view of all the circumstances it will hardly be claimed that they were deliberate aggressors.

The first mutterings of dissatisfaction came from Pine Ridge. This is the largest of the Sioux agencies, having 6,000 of the wildest and most warlike of the tribe, largely under the influence of the celebrated chief Red Cloud, the twin spirit of Sitting Bull in wily disposition and hatred of the white man. It is the most remote from the white settlements along Missouri river, and joins Rosebud reservation, with 4,000 more Sioux of about the same condition and temper, thus making a compact body of 10,000 of the most warlike Indians of the plains. Above all other reservations in the United States this was the very one where there was most urgent and obvious necessity for efficient and vigorous administration and for prompt and honest fulfillment of pledges.

From 1879 to 1886 this agency was in charge of Dr V. T. McGillycuddy, a man of unflinching courage, determined will, and splendid executive ability. Taking charge of these Indians when they had come in fresh from the warpath, he managed them, as he himself says, for seven years without the presence of a soldier on the reservation, and with none nearer than 60 miles. Relying on the Indians themselves, he introduced the principle of home rule by organizing a force of 50 Indian police, drilled in regular cavalry and infantry tactics. With these he was able to thwart all the mischievous schemes of Red Cloud, maintain authority, and start the Indians well on the road to civilization.

Then came a political change of administration, with a resulting train of changes all through the service. Out of 58 Indian agents more than 50 were removed and new men appointed. Some of these appointments were for the better, but the general result was bad, owing mainly to the inexperience of the new officials. In the meantime commissioners were negotiating with the Sioux for a further cession of lands, which was finally effected in spite of the opposition of a large part of the tribe, especially of those under the influence of Red Cloud and Sitting Bull at Pine Ridge and Standing Rock. Then rations were reduced and the Indians began to suffer and, consequently, to be restless, their unrest being intensified but not caused by the rumors of a messiah soon to appear to restore the former conditions. According to the official statement of General Brooke, the beef issue at Pine Ridge was reduced from 8,125,000 pounds in 1886 to 4,000,000 pounds in 1889, a reduction of more than one-half in three years. (War, 5.) In April, 1890, Gallagher, the agent then in charge, informed the Department that the monthly beef issue was only 205,000 pounds, whereas the treaty called for 470,400. He was informed that it was better to issue half rations all the time than to issue three-fourths or full rations for two months and none for the rest of the year. From other sources also the warning now came to the Department that the Sioux of Pine Ridge were becoming restless from hunger. (G. D., 22.) Repeated representations failed to bring more beef, and at last in the summer of 1890 the Indians at Pine Ridge made the first actual demonstration by refusing to accept the deficient issue and making threats against the agent. They were finally persuaded to take the beef, but Agent Gallagher, finding that the dissatisfaction was growing and apparently without remedy, resigned, and his successor took charge in the beginning of October, 1890.

By this time the Ghost dance was in full progress among the western Sioux and was rapidly spreading throughout the tribe. The principal dance ground on Pine Ridge reservation was at No Water’s camp on White Clay creek, about 20 miles from the agency. At a great Ghost dance held here about the middle of June the ghost shirts were worn probably for the first time. (Comr., 30.) In August about 2,000 Indians had assembled for a dance at the same rendezvous, when Agent Gallagher sent out several police with orders to the dancers to quit and go home. They refused to do so, and the agent himself went out with more police to enforce the order. On repeating his demand a number of the warriors leveled their guns toward him and the police, and told him that they were ready to defend their religion with their lives. Under the circumstances the agent, although known to be a brave man, deemed it best to withdraw and the dance went on. (Comr., 31; G. D., 23.)

On Rosebud reservation, which adjoins Pine Ridge on the east and is occupied by the turbulent and warlike Brulés, the warning given to Short Bull had such an effect that there was no open manifestation until September, when the Ghost dance was inaugurated at the various camps under the leadership of Short Bull the medicine-man, Crow Dog, and Two Strike. Agent Wright, then in charge, went out to the Indians and told them the dance must be stopped, which was accordingly done. He expressly states that no violence was contemplated by the Indians, and that no arms were carried in the dance, but that he forbade it on account of its physical and mental effect on the participants and its tendency to draw them from their homes. In some way a rumor got among the Indians at this time that troops had arrived on the reservation to attack them, and in an incredibly short time every Indian had left the neighborhood of the agency and was making preparations to meet the enemy. It was with some difficulty that Agent Wright was able to convince them that the report was false and persuade them to return to their homes. Soon afterward circumstances obliged him to be temporarily absent, leaving affairs in the meantime in charge of a special agent. The Indians took advantage of his absence to renew the Ghost dance and soon defied control. The agent states, however, that no Indians left the agency until the arrival of the troops, when the leaders immediately departed for Pine Ridge, together with 1,800 of their followers. (G. D., 24; Comr., 32.)

On October 9 Kicking Bear of Cheyenne River agency, the chief high priest of the Ghost dance among the Sioux, went to Standing Rock by invitation of Sitting Bull and inaugurated the dance on that reservation at Sitting Bull’s camp on Grand river. The dance had begun on Cheyenne river about the middle of September, chiefly at the camps of Hump and Big Foot. On learning of Kicking Bear’s arrival, Agent McLaughlin sent a force of police, including two officers, to arrest him and put him off the reservation, but they returned without executing the order, both officers being in a dazed condition and fearing the power of Kicking Bear’s “medicine.” Sitting Bull, however, had promised that his visitors would go back to their own reservation, which they did a day or two later, but he declared his intention to continue the dance, as they had received a direct message from the spirit world through Kicking Bear that they must do so to live. He promised that he would suspend the dance until he could come and talk the matter over with the agent, but this promise he failed to keep. Considering Sitting Bull the leader and instigator of the excitement on the reservation, McLaughlin again advised his removal, and that of several other mischief makers, and their confinement in some military prison at a distance. (G. D., 25.)

The two centers of excitement were now at Standing Rock reservation, where Sitting Bull was the open and declared leader, and at Pine Ridge, where Red Cloud was a firm believer in the new doctrine, although perhaps not an instigator of direct opposition to authority. At Rosebud the movement had been smothered for the time by the prompt action of Agent Wright, as already described. At the first-named reservation McLaughlin met the emergency with bravery and ability reinforced by twenty years of experience in dealing with Indians, and, while recommending the removal of Sitting Bull, expressed confidence in his own ability to allay the excitement and suppress the dance. At Pine Ridge, however, where the crisis demanded a man of most positive character—somebody of the McGillycuddy stamp—Gallagher had resigned and had been succeeded in October by D. F. Royer, a person described as “destitute of any of those qualities by which he could justly lay claim to the position—experience, force of character, courage, and sound judgment.” (Welsh, 2.) This appears in every letter and telegram sent out by him during his short incumbency, and is sufficiently evidenced in the name by which the Sioux soon came to know him, Lakota-Kokipa-Koshkala, “Young-man-afraid-of-Indians.” Before he had been in charge a week, he had so far lost control of his Indians as to allow a half dozen of them to release and carry off a prisoner named Little, whom the police had arrested and brought to the agency. On October 12 he reported that more than half of his 6,000 Indians were dancing, and that they were entirely beyond the control of the police, and suggested that it would be necessary to call out the military. (G. D., 26.)

About the same time Agent Palmer at Cheyenne River reported to the Department that Big Foot’s band (afterward engaged at Wounded Knee) was very much excited over the coming of the messiah, and could not be kept by the police from dancing. In reply, both agents were instructed to use every prudent measure to stop the dance and were told that military assistance would be furnished if immediate need should arise. (L. B., 1.) Instructions were also sent to agents in Nevada to warn the leaders of the dance in that quarter to desist. A few days later the agent at Cheyenne River had a talk with the dancers, and so far convinced them of the falsity of their hopes that he was able to report that the excitement was dying out, but recommended the removal of Hump, as a leader of the disaffection. (G. D., 27.)

By the advice of the Department, Royer had consulted General Miles, at that time passing on his way to the west, as to the necessity for troops, and, after hearing a full statement, the general expressed the opinion that the excitement would die out of itself. The next day the general had a talk with the Indians, who informed him that they intended to continue the dance. He gave them some good advice and told them that they must stop. Had the matter rested here until the words of the commanding officer could have been deliberated in their minds—for the mental process of an Indian can not well be hurried—all might have been well. Unfortunately, however, the agent, now thoroughly frightened, wrote a long letter to the Department on October 30, stating that the only remedy for the matter was the use of military, and that about 600 or 700 troops would be necessary. On November 11 he telegraphed for permission to come to Washington to “explain,” and was refused. Then came other telegraphic requests, at the rate of one every day, for the same permission, all of which were refused, with pointed intimation that the interests of the service required that the agent should remain at his post of duty. Finally the matter was reported by the Indian Office to the War Department, and on November 15 Royer was instructed to report the condition of affairs to the commander of the nearest military post, Port Robinson, Nebraska. On the same day he had telegraphed that the Indians were wild and crazy and that at least a thousand soldiers were needed. The agent at Rosebud also now reported that his Indians were beyond control by the police. Special agents were sent to both agencies and confirmed the reports as to the alarming condition of affairs. The agent at Crow Creek and Lower Brulé agency reported at the same time that his Indians were under good control and that the police were sufficient for all purposes. (G. D., 28; L. B., 2.)

On the last day of October, Short Bull, one of those who had been to see the messiah, made an address to a large gathering of Indians near Pine Ridge, in which he said that as the whites were interfering so much in the religious affairs of the Indians he would advance the time for the great change and make it nearer, even within the next month. He urged them all to gather in one place and prepare for the coming messiah, and told them they must dance even though troops should surround them, as the guns of the soldiers would be rendered harmless and the white race itself would soon be annihilated. (See his speech, page 788.)

Soon afterward, McLaughlin personally visited Sitting Bull at his camp on Grand river and attempted to reason with the Indians on the absurdity of their belief. In reply, Sitting Bull proposed that they should both go with competent attendants to the country of the messiah and see and question him for themselves, and rest the truth or falsity of the new doctrine on the result. The proposition was not accepted. (G. D., 29.) There can be no question that the leaders of the Ghost dance among the Sioux were fully as much deceived as their followers.

As the local agents had declared the situation beyond their control, the War Department was at last called on and responded. On November 13 the President had directed the Secretary of War to assume a military responsibility to prevent an outbreak (G. D., 30), and on November 17 troops, under command of General John R. Brooke, were ordered to the front. The general plan of the campaign was under the direction of General Nelson A. Miles, in command of the military department of the Missouri. On November 19 the first troops arrived at Pine Ridge from Fort Robinson, Nebraska, and were speedily reinforced by others. Within a few days there were at Pine Ridge agency, under immediate command of General Brooke, eight troops of the Seventh cavalry, under Colonel Forsyth; a battalion of the Ninth cavalry (colored), under Major Henry; a battalion of the Fifth artillery, under Captain Capron, and a company of the Eighth infantry and eight companies of the Second infantry, under Colonel Wheaton. At Rosebud were two troops of the Ninth cavalry, with portions of the Eighth and Twenty-first infantry, under Lieutenant-Colonel Poland. Between Rosebud and Pine Ridge were stationed seven companies of the First infantry, under Colonel Shafter. West and north of Pine Ridge were stationed portions of the First, Second, and Ninth cavalry, under command of Colonel Tilford and Lieutenant-Colonel Sanford. Farther west, at Buffalo Gap, on the railroad, were stationed three troops from the Fifth and Eighth cavalry, under Captain Wells. Farther north on the railroad, at Rapid City, was Colonel Carr with six troops of the Sixth cavalry. Along the south fork of Cheyenne river Lieutenant-Colonel Offley took position with seven companies of the Seventeenth infantry, and east of him was stationed Lieutenant-Colonel Sumner with three troops of the Eighth cavalry, two companies of the Third infantry, and Lieutenant Robinson’s company of Crow Indian scouts. Small garrisons were also stationed at Forts Meade, Bennett, and Sully. Most of the force was placed in position between the Indians now gathering in the Bad Lands, under Short Bull and Kicking Bear, and the scattered settlements nearest them. Seven companies of the Seventh infantry, under Colonel Merriam, were also placed along Cheyenne river to restrain the Indians of Cheyenne River and Standing Rock reservations. In a short time there were nearly 3,000 troops in the field in the Sioux country. General Miles established his headquarters at Rapid City, South Dakota, close to the center of disturbance. (War, 6.) On December 1 the Secretary of the Interior directed that the agents be instructed to obey and cooperate with the military officers in all matters looking to the suppression of an outbreak. (G. D., 31.)

Upon the first appearance of the troops a large number of Indians of Rosebud and Pine Ridge, led by Short Bull, Kicking Bear, and others, left their homes and fled to the rough broken country known as the Bad Lands, northwest of White river in South Dakota, on the edge of Pine Ridge reservation and about 50 miles northwest of the agency. In their flight they destroyed the houses and other property of the friendly Indians in their path and compelled many to go with them. They succeeded also in capturing a large portion of the agency beef herd. Others rapidly joined them until soon a formidable body of 3,000 Indians had gathered in the Bad Lands, where, protected by the natural fastnesses and difficulties of the country, their future intentions became a matter of anxious concern to the settlers and the authorities.

From the concurrent testimony of all the witnesses, including Indian Commissioner Morgan and the Indians themselves, this flight to the Bad Lands was not properly a hostile movement, but was a stampede caused by panic at the appearance of the troops. In his official report Commissioner Morgan says:

When the troops reached Rosebud, about 1,800 Indians—men, women, and children—stampeded toward Pine Ridge and the Bad Lands, destroying their own property before leaving and that of others en route.

After the death of Sitting Bull he says:

Groups of Indians from the different reservations had commenced concentrating in the Bad Lands, upon or in the vicinity of the Pine Ridge reservation. Killing of cattle and destruction of other property by these Indians, almost entirely within the limits of Pine Ridge and Rosebud reservations, occurred, but no signal fires were built, no warlike demonstrations were made, no violence was done to any white settlers, nor was there any cohesion or organization among the Indians themselves. Many of them were friendly Indians who had never participated in the ghost dance, but had fled thither from fear of soldiers, in consequence of the Sitting Bull affair or through the overpersuasion of friends. The military gradually began to close in around them and they offered no resistance, and a speedy and quiet capitulation of all was confidently expected. (Comr., 33.)

The Sioux nation numbers over 25,000, with between 6,000 and 7,000 warriors. Hardly more than 700 warriors were concerned altogether, including those of Big Foot’s band and those who fled to the Bad Lands. None of the Christian Indians took any part in the disturbance.

While it is certain that the movement toward the Bad Lands with the subsequent events were the result of panic at the appearance of the troops, it is equally true that the troops were sent only on the request of the civilian authorities. On this point General Miles says: “Not until the civil agents had lost control of the Indians and declared themselves powerless to preserve peace, and the Indians were in armed hostility and defiance of the civil authorities, was a single soldier moved from his garrison to suppress the general revolt.” (War, 7.) Throughout the whole trouble McGillycuddy at Standing Rock consistently declared his ability to control his Indians without the presence of troops.

In accord with instructions from the Indian Office, the several agents in charge among the Sioux had forwarded lists of disturbers whom it would be advisable to arrest and remove from among the Indians, using the military for the purpose if necessary. The agents at the other reservations sent in all together the names of about fifteen subjects for removal, while Royer, at Pine Ridge, forwarded as a “conservative estimate” the names of sixty-four. Short Bull and Kicking Bear being in the Bad Lands, and Red Cloud being now an old man and too politic to make much open demonstration, the head and front of the offenders was Sitting Bull, the irreconcilable; but McLaughlin, within whose jurisdiction he was, in a letter of November 22, advised that the arrest be not attempted until later in the season, as at the date of writing the weather was warm and pleasant—in other words, favorable to the Indians in case they should make opposition. (G. D., 32.) The worst element had withdrawn to the Bad Lands, where they were making no hostile demonstrations, but were apparently badly frightened and awaiting developments to know whether to come in and surrender or to continue to retreat. The dance had generally been discontinued on the reservations, excepting at Sitting Bull’s camp on Grand river and Big Foot’s camp on Cheyenne river. The presence of troops had stopped the dances near the agencies, and the Secretary of the Interior, in order to allay the dissatisfaction, had ordered that the full rations due under the treaty should be issued at all the Sioux agencies, which at the same time were placed under the control of the military. (G. D., 33; L. B., 3.) Such were the conditions on the opening of December, 1890. Everything seemed to be quieting down, and it was now deemed a favorable time to forestall future disturbance by removing the ringleaders.

Agent McLaughlin at Standing Rock had notified the Department some weeks before that it would be necessary to remove Sitting Bull and several others at no distant day to put an end to their harmful influence among the Sioux, but stated also that the matter should not be precipitated, and that when the proper time came he could accomplish the undertaking with his Indian police without the aid of troops. As soon as the War Department assumed control of the Sioux agencies, it was determined to make an attempt to secure Sitting Bull by military power. Accordingly, orders were given to the noted scout, William F. Cody, better known as Buffalo Bill, who was well acquainted with Sitting Bull and was believed to have influence with him, to proceed to Standing Rock agency to induce him to come in, with authority to make such terms as might seem necessary, and, if unsuccessful, to arrest him and remove him from his camp to the nearest post, Fort Yates. Cody arrived at Fort Yates on November 28, and was about to undertake the arrest, when his orders were countermanded at the urgent remonstrance of Agent McLaughlin, who represented that such a step at that particular time was unwise, as military interference was liable to provoke a conflict, in which the Indians would have the advantage, as the warm weather was in their favor. He insisted that there was no immediate danger from the dancing, and that at the proper time—when the weather grew colder—he could take care of Sitting Bull and the other disturbers whose removal he advised with the aid of the Indian police, whom, in all his years of service, he had always found equal to the emergency. The attempt was accordingly postponed. In the meantime Sitting Bull had promised to come into the agency to talk over the situation with the agent, but failed to keep his engagement. A close watch was kept over his movements and the agent was instructed to make no arrests except by authority from the military or the Secretary of the Interior. (G. D., 34.)

There is no question that Sitting Bull was plotting mischief. His previous record was one of irreconcilable hostility to the government, and in every disturbance on the reservation his camp had been the center of ferment. It was at his camp and on his invitation that Kicking Bear had organized the first Ghost dance on the reservation, and the dance had been kept up by Sitting Bull ever since in spite of the repeated remonstrance of the agent. At the same time the turbulent followers of the medicine-man took every opportunity to insult and annoy the peaceable and progressive Indians who refused to join them until these latter were forced to make complaint to the agent. In October, while the dance was being organized at his camp, Sitting Bull had deliberately broken the “pipe of peace” which he had kept in his house since his surrender in 1881, and when asked why he had broken it, replied that he wanted to die and wanted to fight. From that time he discontinued his regular visits to the agency. It became known that he contemplated leaving the reservation to visit the other leaders of dissatisfaction at the southern Sioux agencies, and to frustrate such an attempt the agent had gradually increased the number of police in the neighborhood of his camp, and had arranged for speedy information and prompt action in case of any sudden move on his part. (G. D., 35.)

Foreseeing from the active movements of the military that the arrest of Sitting Bull was liable to be ordered at any moment, and fearing that such action might come at an inopportune time, and thus result in trouble, McLaughlin made arrangements to have him and several other disturbers arrested by the Indian police on the night of December 6, the weather and other things being then, in his opinion, most favorable for the attempt. On telegraphing to the Indian department, however, for authority, he was directed to make no arrests excepting upon order from the military authorities or the Secretary of the Interior. In reply to a telegram from General Ruger, McLaughlin stated that there was no immediate need of haste, and that postponement was preferable, as the winter weather was cooling the ardor of the dancers.

On December 12 the military order came for the arrest of Sitting Bull. Colonel Drum, in command at Fort Yates, was directed to make it his personal duty to secure him and to call on the agent for assistance and cooperation in the matter. On consultation between the commandant and the agent, who were in full accord, it was decided to make the arrest on the 20th, when most of the Indians would be down at the agency for rations, and there would consequently be less danger of a conflict at the camp. On the 14th, however, late Sunday afternoon, a courier came from Grand river with a message from Mr Carignan, the teacher of the Indian school, stating, on information given by the police, that an invitation had just come from Pine Ridge to Sitting Bull asking him to go there, as God was about to appear. Sitting Bull was determined to go, and sent a request to the agent for permission, but in the meantime had completed his preparations to go anyhow in case permission was refused. With this intention it was further stated that he had his horses already selected for a long and hard ride, and the police urgently asked to be allowed to arrest him at once, as it would be a difficult matter to overtake him after he had once started.

It was necessary to act immediately, and arrangements were made between Colonel Drum and Agent McLaughlin to attempt the arrest at daylight the next morning, December 15. The arrest was to be made by the Indian police, assisted, if necessary, by a detachment of troops, who were to follow within supporting distance. There were already twenty-eight police under command of Lieutenant Bull Head in the immediate vicinity of Sitting Bull’s camp on Grand river, about 40 miles southwest of the agency and Fort Yates, and couriers were at once dispatched to these and to others in that direction to concentrate at Sitting Bull’s house, ready to make the arrest in the morning. It was then sundown, but with loyal promptness the police mounted their ponies and by riding all night from one station to another assembled a force of 43 trained and determined Indian police, including four volunteers, at the rendezvous on Grand river before daylight. In performing this courier service Sergeant Red Tomahawk covered the distance of 40 miles between the agency and the camp, over an unfamiliar road, in four hours and a quarter; and another, Hawk Man, made 100 miles, by a roundabout way, in twenty-two hours. In the meantime two troops of the Eighth cavalry, numbering 100 men, under command of Captain E. G. Fechét, and having with them a Hotchkiss gun, left Fort Yates at midnight, guided by Louis Primeau, and by a rapid night march arrived within supporting distance near Sitting Bull’s camp just before daybreak. It was afterward learned that Sitting Bull, in anticipation of such action, had had a strong guard about his house for his protection for several nights previous, but on this particular night the Indians had been dancing until nearly morning, and the house was consequently left unguarded.

At daybreak on Monday morning, December 15, 1890, the police and volunteers, 43 in number, under command of Lieutenant Bull Head, a cool and reliable man, surrounded Sitting Bull’s house. He had two log cabins, a few rods apart, and to make sure of their man, eight of the police entered one house and ten went into the other, while the rest remained on guard outside. They found him asleep on the floor in the larger house. He was aroused and told that he was a prisoner and must go to the agency. He made no objection, but said “All right; I will dress and go with you.” He then sent one of his wives to the other house for some clothes he desired to wear, and asked to have his favorite horse saddled for him to ride, which was done by one of the police. On looking about the room two rifles and several knives were found and taken by the police. While dressing, he apparently changed his mind and began abusing the police for disturbing him, to which they made no reply. While this was going on inside, his followers, to the number of perhaps 150, were congregating about the house outside and by the time he was dressed an excited crowd of Indians had the police entirely surrounded and were pressing them to the wall. On being brought out, Sitting Bull became greatly excited and refused to go, and called on his followers to rescue him. Lieutenant Bull Head and Sergeant Shave Head were standing on each side of him, with Second Sergeant Red Tomahawk guarding behind, while the rest of the police were trying to clear the way in front, when one of Sitting Bull’s followers, Catch-the-Bear, fired and shot Lieutenant Bull Head in the side. Bull Head at once turned and sent a bullet into the body of Sitting Bull, who was also shot through the head at the same moment by Red Tomahawk. Sergeant Shave Head was shot by another of the crowd, and fell to the ground with Bull Head and Sitting Bull. Catch-the-Bear, who fired the first shot, was immediately shot and killed by Alone Man, one of the police, and it became a desperate hand-to-hand fight of less than 43 men against more than a hundred. The trained police soon drove their assailants into the timber near by, and then returned and carried their dead and wounded into the house and held it for about two hours, until the arrival of the troops under Captain Fechét, about half past seven. The troops had been notified of the perilous situation of the police by Hawk Man, who had volunteered to carry the information from Sitting Bull’s camp. He succeeded in getting away, assisted by Red Tomahawk, although so closely pursued that several bullets passed through his clothing. In spite of the efforts of the hostiles, the police also held possession of the corral, which Sitting Bull had filled with horses in anticipation of his flight. When the cavalry came in sight over a hill, about 1,500 yards distant from the camp, the police at the corral raised a white flag to show where they were, but the troops, mistaking them for hostiles, fired two shells at them from the Hotchkiss, when Sergeant Red Tomahawk, who had taken command after the wounding of his superior officers, paraded his men in line and then rode out alone with a white flag to meet the troops. On the approach of the soldiers Sitting Bull’s warriors fled up Grand river a short distance and then turned south across the prairie toward Cherry creek and Cheyenne river. Not wishing to create such a panic among them as to drive them into the hostile camp in the Bad Lands, Captain Fechét pursued them only a short distance and then left them to be handled by the other detachments in that direction. Their wives and families, their property and their dead, were left behind in the flight. As soon as possible Captain Fechét also sent word to them by some Indian women to return to their homes and they would not be molested. To further reassure them, the troops at once began their march back to the post. As a result of this sensible policy, very few of the Sitting Bull band joined the hostiles. They had made no resistance to the troops, but fled immediately on their appearance.

The fight lasted only a few minutes, but with terribly fatal result. Six policemen were killed or mortally wounded, including the officers Bull Head and Shave Head, and one other less seriously wounded. The hostiles lost eight killed, including Sitting Bull and his son Crow Foot, 17 years of age, with several wounded. During the fight the women attacked the police with knives and clubs, but notwithstanding the excitement the police simply disarmed them and put them in one of the houses under guard.

The warmest praise is given the Indian police for their conduct on this occasion by those who are most competent to judge. Some who thus faced death in obedience to orders had near relatives among those opposed to them. Agent McLaughlin in one official letter says that he can not too strongly commend their splendid courage and ability in the action, and in another letter says: “The details of the battle show that the Indian police behaved nobly and exhibited the best of judgment and bravery, and a recognition by the government for their services on this occasion is richly deserved.... I respectfully urge that the Interior Department cooperate with the War Department in obtaining Congressional action which will secure to these brave survivors and to the families of the dead a full and generous reward.” Colonel Drum, under whose orders the arrest was made, after stating that Sitting Bull was not hurt until he began struggling to escape and until one of the police had been shot, adds: “It is also remarkable that no squaws or children were hurt. The police appear to have constantly warned the other Indians to keep away, until they were forced to fight in self-defense. It is hardly possible to praise their conduct too highly.” Notwithstanding the recommendation of the Commissioner of Indian Affairs, Congress has taken no action in recognition of their services on this occasion.

Before the action orders had been sent to the police to have with them a wagon, in order to convey Sitting Bull quickly away from the camp, so as to avoid trouble, but in the excitement of preparation this was overlooked. The police returned to the agency late in the afternoon, bringing with them their dead and wounded, together with two prisoners and the body of Sitting Bull, which was turned over to the military authorities at Fort Yates. The four dead policemen were buried at the agency next day with military honors. Bull Head and Shave Head died in the hospital soon afterward, with the consolation of having their friends around them in their last moments. The agent states that the large majority of the Indians were loyal to the government, and expressed satisfaction at what they considered the termination of the disturbance. Couriers were again sent after the fleeing Indians by McLaughlin, warning them to return to the agency, where they would be safe, or suffer the consequences if found outside the reservation. Within a few days nearly 250 had come in and surrendered, leaving only about one-third still out. Most of these soon afterward surrendered with Hump on Cherry creek, while the remainder, about 50, joined Big Foot or went on to Pine Ridge. (G. D., 36; War, 8.)

Thus died Tata′nka I′yota′nke, Sitting Bull, the great medicine-man of the Sioux, on the morning of December 15, 1890, aged about 56 years. He belonged to the Uncpapa division of the Teton Sioux. Although a priest rather than a chief, he had gained a reputation in his early years by organizing and leading war parties, and became prominent by his participation in the battle of Little Bighorn, in Montana, on June 25, 1876, by which Custer’s command was wiped out of existence. Being pursued by General Terry, Sitting Bull and his band made their escape northward into Canada, where they remained until 1881, when he surrendered, through the mediation of the Canadian authorities, on a promise of pardon. To obtain subsistence while in Canada, his people had been obliged to sell almost all they possessed, including their firearms, so that they returned to their old homes in an impoverished condition. After confinement as a prisoner of war until 1883, Sitting Bull took up his residence on Grand river, where he remained until he met his death. Here he continued to be the leader of the opposition to civilization and the white man, and his camp became the rallying point for the dissatisfied conservative element that clung to the old order of things, and felt that innovation meant destruction to their race. For seven years he had steadily opposed the treaty by which the great Sioux reservation was at last broken up in 1889. After the treaty had been signed by the requisite number to make it a law, he was asked by a white man what the Indians thought about it. With a burst of passionate indignation he replied, “Indians! There are no Indians left now but me.” However misguided he may have been in thus continuing a losing fight against the inevitable, it is possible that from the Indian point of view he may have been their patriot as he was their high priest. He has been mercilessly denounced as a bad man and a liar; but there can be no doubt that he was honest in his hatred of the whites, and his breaking of the peace pipe, saying that he “wanted to fight and wanted to die,” showed that he was no coward. But he represented the past. His influence was incompatible with progress, and his death marks an era in the civilization of the Sioux. In the language of General Miles, “His tragic fate was but the ending of a tragic life. Since the days of Pontiac, Tecumseh, and Red Jacket no Indian has had the power of drawing to him so large a following of his race and molding and wielding it against the authority of the United States, or of inspiring it with greater animosity against the white race and civilization.” (War, 9.)

On December 18 the Indians who had already fled to the Bad Lands attacked a small party of men on Spring creek of Cheyenne river. Major Tupper with 100 men of Carr’s division was sent to their rescue, and a skirmish ensued with the Indians, who were concealed in the bushes along the creek. The government wagons, while crossing the creek, were also attacked by the hostiles, who were finally driven off by reinforcements of cavalry under Captain Wells. On the same date over a thousand Indians returned to Pine Ridge. News was received that there were still about 1,500 fugitives camped on Cheyenne river in the neighborhood of Spring creek. (Colby, 1.)

The most dangerous leader of dissatisfaction in the north after the death of Sitting Bull was considered to be Hump, on Cheyenne River reservation. The agent in charge had long before recommended his removal, but it was thought that it would now be next to impossible to arrest him. Hump with his band of about 400 persons, and Big Foot with nearly as many, had their camps about the junction of Cherry creek and Cheyenne river. For several weeks they had been dancing almost constantly, and were very sullen and apparently very hostile. After serious consideration of the matter, the task of securing Hump was assigned to Captain E. P. Ewers of the Fifth infantry, who had had charge of this chief and his band for seven years and had their full confidence and respect. He was then on duty in Texas, but was ordered forward and reported soon after at Fort Bennett on the border of the reservation. So dangerous was Hump considered to be that the civil agents did not think it possible even for the officer to communicate with him. However, Captain Ewers, without troops and attended only by Lieutenant Hale, at once left the fort and rode out 60 miles to Hump’s camp. “Hump at the time was 20 miles away and a runner was sent for him. Immediately upon hearing that Captain Ewers was in the vicinity he came to him and was told that the division commander desired him to take his people away from the hostiles and bring them to the nearest military post. He replied that if General Miles sent for him, he would do whatever he desired. He immediately brought his people into Fort Bennett and complied with all the orders and instructions given him, and subsequently rendered valuable service for peace. Thus an element regarded as among the most dangerous was removed.” After coming into the fort, Hump enlisted as a scout under Captain Ewers, and soon afterward, in connection with the same Lieutenant Hale, proved his loyalty by bringing about the surrender of the Sitting Bull fugitives. Subsequently Captain Ewers further distinguished himself by conducting the northern Cheyenne—who were considered as particularly dangerous, but who regarded Captain Ewers with absolute affection—from Pine Ridge to Tongue river, Montana, a distance of 300 miles, and in the most rigorous of the winter season, without an escort of troops and without the loss of a single life or the commission by an Indian of a single unlawful act. (War, 10.)

The Sitting Bull fugitives who had not come in at once had fled southward toward their friends and near relatives of Cheyenne River reservation, and were camped on Cherry creek a few miles above its junction with Cheyenne river at Cheyenne City. As their presence there could serve only to increase the unrest among the other Indians in that vicinity, and as there was great danger that they might attempt to join those already in the Bad Lands, Captain Hurst, of the Twelfth infantry, commanding at Fort Bennett, directed Lieutenant H. E. Hale on December 18 to go out and bring them in. On arriving at Cheyenne City the officer found it deserted, all the citizens excepting one man having fled in alarm a short time before on the report of a half-blood that the Sitting Bull Indians were coming and had sworn to kill the first white man they met. Having succeeded in frightening the whole population, the half-blood himself, Narcisse Narcelle, left at once for the fort.

After some difficulty in finding anyone to assist him, Hale sent a policeman to bring back Narcelle and sent out another Indian to learn the situation and condition of the Indian camp. His only interpreter for the purpose was Mr Angell, the single white man who had remained, and who had learned some of the Sioux language during his residence among them. While thus waiting, a report came that the Indians had raided a ranch about 10 miles up the creek. Not hearing from his scouts, the lieutenant determined to go alone and find the camp, and was just about to start, when Hump, the late dangerous hostile, but now an enlisted scout, rode in with the news that the Sitting Bull Indians were approaching only a short distance away, and armed. Although from the reports there was every reason to believe that they had just destroyed a ranch and were now coming to attack the town, the officer, with rare bravery, kept his determination to go out and meet them, even without an interpreter, in the hope of preventing their hostile purpose. Hump volunteered to go with him. The two rode out together and soon came up with the Indians, who received them in a friendly manner. There were 46 warriors in the party, besides women and children, wagons and ponies. Says the officer: “I appreciated the importance of the situation, but was absolutely powerless to communicate with the Indians. I immediately formed the opinion that they could be easily persuaded to come into the agency if I could but talk with them. While I was trying by signs to make them understand what I wanted, Henry Angell rode into the circle and took his place at my side. This generous man had not liked the idea of my going among these Indians, and from a true spirit of chivalry had ridden over to ‘see it out.’” Verily, while such men as Ewers, Hale, and Angell live, the day of chivalry is not gone by.

With Angell’s assistance as interpreter, the officer told the Indians that if they would stay where they were for one day, he would go back to the agency and return within that time with the chief (Captain J. H. Hurst) and an interpreter and no soldiers. They replied that they would not move, and, having directed Angell to kill a beef for them, as they were worn-out and well-nigh starving, and leaving Hump with them to reassure them, the lieutenant rode back to Fort Bennett, 40 miles away, notified Captain Hurst, and returned with him, Sergeant Gallagher, and two Indian scouts as interpreters, the next day. Knowing the importance of haste, they started out on this winter ride of 40 miles without blankets or rations.

On arriving Captain Hurst told them briefly what he had come for, and then, being exhausted from the rapid ride, and knowing that an Indian must not be hurried, he ordered some beef and a plentiful supply of tobacco for them, and said that after he and they had eaten and rested they could talk the matter over. In the evening the principal men met him and told him over a pipe that they had left Standing Rock agency forever; that their great chief and friend Sitting Bull had been killed there without cause; that they had come down to talk with their friends on Cherry creek about it, but had found them gone, and were consequently undecided as to what they should do. The captain replied that he had come as a friend; that if they would surrender their arms and go back with him to Fort Bennett, they would be provided for and would not be harmed; that he could make no promises as to their future disposition; that if they chose to join Big Foot’s camp, only a few miles up the river, the result would be their certain destruction. After deliberating among themselves until midnight, they came in a body, delivered a number of guns, and said they would go back to the fort. Accordingly they broke camp next morning and arrived at Fort Bennett on December 24. The entire body numbered 221, including 55 belonging on Cherry creek. These last were allowed to join their own people camped near the post. The Sitting Bull Indians, with some others from Standing Rock, numbering 227 in all, were held at Fort Sully, a few miles below Fort Bennett, until the close of the trouble. Thirty-eight others of the Sitting Bull band had joined Big Foot and afterward fled with him. (War, 11.)

After the death of Sitting Bull and the enlistment of Hump in the government service, the only prominent leader outside of the Bad Lands who was considered as possibly dangerous was Sitanka or Big Foot, whose village was at the mouth of Deep creek, a few miles below the forks of Cheyenne river. The duty of watching him was assigned to Lieutenant-Colonel E. V. Sumner of the Eighth cavalry, who had his camp just above the forks. Here he was visited by Big Foot and his head men, who assured the officer that they were peaceable and intended to remain quietly at home. Friendly relations continued until the middle of December, when Big Foot came to bid good bye, telling Sumner that his people were all going to the agency to get their annuities. A day or two later the order came to arrest Big Foot and send him as a prisoner to Fort Meade. Believing that the chief was acting in good faith to control his warriors, who might easily go beyond control were he taken from them, Colonel Sumner informed General Miles that the Indians were already on their way to the agency; that if Big Foot should return he (Sumner) would try to get him, and that otherwise he could be arrested at the agency, if necessary. Soon after, however, the report came that Big Foot had stopped at Hump’s camp on the way to the agency, to meet the fugitives coming south from Sitting Bull’s camp.

On receipt of this information, Sumner at once marched down the river with the intention of stopping Big Foot. When about half way to Hump’s camp, Big Foot himself came up to meet him, saying that he was friendly, and that he and his men would obey any orders that the officer might give. He stated that he had with him 100 of his own Indians and 38 from Standing Rock (Sitting Bull’s band). When asked why he had received these last, knowing that they were refugees from their reservation, he replied that they were his brothers and relations; that they had come to his people hungry, footsore, and almost naked; and that he had taken them in and fed them, and that no one with a heart could do any less.

Sumner then directed one of his officers, Captain Hennisee, to go to the Indian camp with Big Foot and bring in all the Indians. That officer started and returned the next day, December 21, with 333 Indians. This large number was a matter of surprise in view of Big Foot’s statement shortly before, but it is possible that in speaking of his party he intended to refer only to the warriors. They went into camp as directed, turned out their ponies to graze, and were fed, and on the next morning all started quietly back with the troops. As they had all along appeared perfectly friendly and compliant with every order, no attempt was made to disarm them. On arriving near their own village, however, it became apparent that Big Foot could not control their desire to go to their homes. The chief came frankly to Sumner and said that he himself would go wherever wanted, but that there would be trouble to force the women and children, who were cold and hungry, away from their village. He protested also that they were now at home, where they had been ordered by the government to stay, and that none of them had done anything to justify their removal. As it was evident that they would not go peaceably, Colonel Sumner determined to bring his whole force on the next day to compel them. In the meantime he sent a white man named Dunn, who had a friendly acquaintance with Big Foot, to tell him that the Indians must obey the order to remove. Dunn delivered the message and returned, being followed later by the interpreter, with the statement that the Indians had consented to go to the agency, and would start the next morning, December 23. That evening, however, scouts came in with the word that the Indians had left their village and were going southward. It was at first thought that they intended turning off on another trail to the agency, but instead of doing so they kept on in the direction of Pine Ridge and the refugees in the Bad Lands, taking with them only their ponies and tipi poles.

The cause of this precipitate flight after the promise given by Big Foot is somewhat uncertain. The statement of the interpreter, Felix Benoit, would make it appear that the Indians were frightened by Dunn, who told them that the soldiers were coming in the morning to carry them off and to shoot them if they refused to go. While this doubtless had the effect of alarming them, the real cause of their flight was probably the fact that just at this critical juncture Colonel Merriam was ordered to move with his command up Cheyenne river to join forces with Sumner in compelling their surrender. Such is the opinion of General Ruger, who states officially that “Big Foot and adherents who had joined him, probably becoming alarmed on the movement of Colonel Merriam’s command from Fort Bennett and a rumor that Colonel Sumner would capture them, eluded Colonel Sumner’s command and started for the Pine Ridge reservation.” This agrees with the statement of several of the survivors that they had been frightened from their homes by the news of Merriam’s approach. Sumner, in his report, calls attention to the fact that they committed no depredations in their flight, although they passed several ranches and at one time even went through a pasture filled with horses and cattle without attempting to appropriate them. He also expresses the opinion that Big Foot was compelled unwillingly to go with his people. The whole number of fugitives was at least 340, including a few from the bands of Sitting Bull and Hump. Immediately on learning of their flight Colonel Sumner notified General Carr, commanding in the direction of the Bad Lands. (War, 12.)

The situation at this crisis is thus summed up by Indian Commissioner Morgan:

Groups of Indians from the different reservations had commenced concentrating in the Bad Lands upon or in the vicinity of the Pine Ridge reservation. Killing of cattle and destruction of other property by these Indians, almost entirely within the limits of Pine Ridge and Rosebud reservations, occurred, but no signal fires were built, no warlike demonstrations were made, no violence was done to any white settler, nor was there cohesion or organization among the Indians themselves. Many of them were friendly Indians, who had never participated in the ghost dance, but had fled thither from fear of soldiers, in consequence of the Sitting Bull affair or through the overpersuasion of friends. The military gradually began to close in around them and they offered no resistance, and a speedy and quiet capitulation of all was confidently expected. (Comr., 34.)

Nearly 3,000 troops were now in the field in the Sioux country. This force was fully sufficient to have engaged the Indians with success, but as such action must inevitably have resulted in wholesale killing on both sides, with the prospect of precipitating a raiding warfare unless the hostiles were completely annihilated, it was thought best to bring about a surrender by peaceful means.

The refugees in the Bad Lands who had fled from Pine Ridge and Rosebud had been surrounded on the west and north by a strong cordon of troops, operating under General Brooke, which had the effect of gradually forcing them back toward the agency. At the same time that officer made every effort to expedite the process by creating dissensions in the Indian camp, and trying in various ways to induce them to come in by small parties at a time. To this end the Indians were promised that if they complied with the orders of the military their rights and interests would be protected, so far as it was within the power of the military department to accomplish that result. Although they had about lost confidence in the government, these assurances had a good effect, which was emphasized by the news of the death of Sitting Bull, the arrest of Big Foot, and return of Hump to his agency, and the steady pressure of the troops from behind; and on December 27, 1890, the entire force broke camp and left their stronghold in the Bad Lands and began moving in toward the agency at Pine Ridge. The several detachments of troops followed behind, within supporting distance of one another, and so closely that the fires were still burning in the Indian camps when the soldiers moved in to occupy the same ground. (War, 13.)

As early as December 6 a conference had been brought about at Pine Ridge, through the efforts of Father Jutz, the priest of the Catholic mission, between General Brooke and the leading chiefs of both friendlies and “hostiles.” Although no definite conclusion was reached, the meeting was a friendly one, ending with a feast and an Indian dance. The immediate effect was a division in the hostile camp, culminating in a quarrel between the two factions, with the result that Two Strike and his party left the rest and moved in toward the agency, while Short Bull and Kicking Bear retreated farther into the Bad Lands. On learning of this condition of affairs, General Brooke sent out American Horse and Big Road with a large party of warriors to meet Two Strike and go back with him to persuade the others, if possible, to come in. At the same time the troops were moved up to intercept the flight of the hostiles. (Colby, 2; G. D., 37.)

On Christmas day the Cheyenne scouts, camped on Battle creek north of the Bad Lands, were attacked by a party of hostiles led by Kicking Bear in person. The fight was kept up until after dark, several being killed or wounded on both sides, but the hostiles were finally driven off. (Colby, 3.)

But the tragedy was near at hand. Orders had been given to intercept Big Foot’s party in its flight from Cheyenne river toward the Bad Lands. This was accomplished on December 28, 1890, by Major Whitside of the Seventh cavalry, who came up with him a short distance west of the Bad Lands. Not having succeeded in communicating with the refugees who had fled there and who were already on their way to the agency, Big Foot had made no stop, but continued on also toward Pine Ridge. On sighting the troops he raised a white flag, advanced into the open country, and asked for a parley. This was refused by Major Whitside, who demanded an unconditional surrender, which was at once given, and the Indians moved on with the troops to Wounded Knee creek, about 20 miles northeast of Pine Ridge agency, where they camped as directed by Major Whitside. In order to make assurance complete, General Brooke sent Colonel Forsyth to join Major Whitside with four additional troops of the Seventh cavalry, which, with the scouts under Lieutenant Taylor, made up a force of eight troops of cavalry, one company of scouts, and four pieces of light artillery (Hotchkiss guns), with a total force of 470 men, as against a total of 106 warriors then present in Big Foot’s band. A scouting party of Big Foot’s band was out looking for the camp under Kicking Bear and Short Bull, but as these chiefs, with their followers, were already on their way to the agency, the scouting party was returning to rejoin Big Foot when the fight occurred the next morning. It was the intention of General Miles to send Big Foot and his followers back to their own reservation, or to remove them altogether from the country until the excitement had subsided. (War, 14.)

At this time there were no Indians in the Bad Lands. Two Strike and Crow Dog had come in about a week before and were now camped close to the agency. Kicking Bear and Short Bull, with their followers, had yielded to the friendly persuasions of American Horse, Little Wound, Standing Bear, and others who had gone out to them in the interests of peace, and both parties were now coming in together and had arrived at the Catholic mission, 5 miles from the agency, when the battle occurred.

On the morning of December 29, 1890, preparations were made to disarm the Indians preparatory to taking them to the agency and thence to the railroad. In obedience to instructions the Indians had pitched their tipis on the open plain a short distance west of the creek and surrounded on all sides by the soldiers. In the center of the camp the Indians had hoisted a white flag as a sign of peace and a guarantee of safety. Behind them was a dry ravine running into the creek, and on a slight rise in the front was posted the battery of four Hotchkiss machine guns, trained directly on the Indian camp. In front, behind, and on both flanks of the camp were posted the various troops of cavalry, a portion of two troops, together with the Indian scouts, being dismounted and drawn up in front of the Indians at the distance of only a few yards from them. Big Foot himself was ill of pneumonia in his tipi, and Colonel Forsyth, who had taken command as senior officer, had provided a tent warmed with a camp stove for his reception.

Shortly after 8 oclock in the morning the warriors were ordered to come out from the tipis and deliver their arms. They came forward and seated themselves on the ground in front of the troops. They were then ordered to go by themselves into their tipis and bring out and surrender their guns. The first twenty went and returned in a short time with only two guns. It seemed evident that they were unwilling to give them up, and after consultation of the officers part of the soldiers were ordered up to within ten yards of the group of warriors, while another detachment of troops was ordered to search the tipis. After a thorough hunt these last returned with about forty rifles, most of which, however, were old and of little value. The search had consumed considerable time and created a good deal of excitement among the women and children, as the soldiers found it necessary in the process to overturn the beds and other furniture of the tipis and in some instances drove out the inmates. All this had its effect on their husbands and brothers, already wrought up to a high nervous tension and not knowing what might come next. While the soldiers had been looking for the guns Yellow Bird, a medicine-man, had been walking about among the warriors, blowing on an eagle-bone whistle, and urging them to resistance, telling them that the soldiers would become weak and powerless, and that the bullets would be unavailing against the sacred “ghost shirts,” which nearly every one of the Indians wore. As he spoke in the Sioux language, the officers did not at once realize the dangerous drift of his talk, and the climax came too quickly for them to interfere. It is said one of the searchers now attempted to raise the blanket of a warrior. Suddenly Yellow Bird stooped down and threw a handful of dust into the air, when, as if this were the signal, a young Indian, said to have been Black Fox from Cheyenne river, drew a rifle from under his blanket and fired at the soldiers, who instantly replied with a volley directly into the crowd of warriors and so near that their guns were almost touching. From the number of sticks set up by the Indians to mark where the dead fell, as seen by the author a year later, this one volley must have killed nearly half the warriors (plate +XCIX+). The survivors sprang to their feet, throwing their blankets from their shoulders as they rose, and for a few minutes there was a terrible hand to hand struggle, where every man’s thought was to kill. Although many of the warriors had no guns, nearly all had revolvers and knives in their belts under their blankets, together with some of the murderous warclubs still carried by the Sioux. The very lack of guns made the fight more bloody, as it brought the combatants to closer quarters.

EXPLANATION OF PLATE XCVII

Compiled from map by Lieutenant T. Q. Donaldson, Seventh United States cavalry, kindly loaned by Dr J. D. Glennan, United States Army.

A. and I. Seventy-six men from A and I troops forming dismounted line of sentinels. B. Troop B dismounted and in line. C. Troop C mounted and in line (sorrel troop). D. Troop D mounted and in line (black troop). E. Troop E mounted and in line (bay troop). G. Troop G mounted and in line (gray troop). K. Troop K dismounted and in line. S. Indian scouts. 1. Tent from which a hostile warrior shot two soldiers. 2. Tent occupied by Big Foot and his wife and in front of which the former was killed. 3. Tents put up for the use of Big Foot’s band. 4. Council ring in or near which were General Forsyth, Major Whitside, Captain Varnum, Captain Hoff, Captain Wallace, Doctor Glennan, Lieutenant Robinson, Lieutenant Nicholson, Lieutenant McCormick, and the reporters. 5. Officers’ tents, first battalion. 6. Enlisted mens’ tents, first battalion. 7. Bivouac of second battalion on night of December 28, 1890. 8. Four Hotchkiss guns and detachment of First artillery, under Captain Capron, First artillery, and Lieutenant Hawthorne, Second artillery. 9. Indian village. 10. Indian ponies. 11. Dismounted line of sentinels. 12. Captains Ilsley and Moylan. 13. Lieutenants Garlington and Waterman. 14. Captain Godfrey and Lieutenant Tompkins. 15. Captain Jackson and Lieutenant Donaldson. 16. Lieutenant Taylor, Ninth cavalry, commanding Indian scouts (S). 17. Captain Edgerly and Lieutenant Brewer. 18. Captain Nowlan and Lieutenant Gresham. 19. Indian houses. 20. Lieutenants Sickel and Rice.

Just beyond the limit of the map, toward the west, the ravine forms a bend, in which a number of hostiles took refuge, and from which Lieutenant Hawthorne was shot. Captain Wallace was found near the center of the council ring. Big Foot was killed two or three yards in front of his tent. Father Craft was near the center of the ring when stabbed. The Indians broke to the west through B and K troops. While in the council ring all the warriors had on blankets, with their arms, principally Winchester rifles, concealed under them. Most of the warriors, including the medicine-man, were painted and wore ghost shirts.

At the first volley the Hotchkiss guns trained on the camp opened fire and sent a storm of shells and bullets among the women and children, who had gathered in front of the tipis to watch the unusual spectacle of military display. The guns poured in 2-pound explosive shells at the rate of nearly fifty per minute, mowing down everything alive. The terrible effect may be judged from the fact that one woman survivor, Blue Whirlwind, with whom the author conversed, received fourteen wounds, while each of her two little boys was also wounded by her side. In a few minutes 200 Indian men, women, and children, with 60 soldiers, were lying dead and wounded on the ground, the tipis had been torn down by the shells and some of them were burning above the helpless wounded, and the surviving handful of Indians were flying in wild panic to the shelter of the ravine, pursued by hundreds of maddened soldiers and followed up by a raking fire from the Hotchkiss guns, which had been moved into position to sweep the ravine.

There can be no question that the pursuit was simply a massacre, where fleeing women, with infants in their arms, were shot down after resistance had ceased and when almost every warrior was stretched dead or dying on the ground. On this point such a careful writer as Herbert Welsh says: “From the fact that so many women and children were killed, and that their bodies were found far from the scene of action, and as though they were shot down while flying, it would look as though blind rage had been at work, in striking contrast to the moderation of the Indian police at the Sitting Bull fight when they were assailed by women.” (Welsh, 3.) The testimony of American Horse and other friendlies is strong in the same direction. (See page 839.) Commissioner Morgan in his official report says that “Most of the men, including Big Foot, were killed around his tent, where he lay sick. The bodies of the women and children were scattered along a distance of two miles from the scene of the encounter.” (Comr., 35.)

This is no reflection on the humanity of the officer in charge. On the contrary, Colonel Forsyth had taken measures to guard against such an occurrence by separating the women and children, as already stated, and had also endeavored to make the sick chief, Big Foot, as comfortable as possible, even to the extent of sending his own surgeon, Dr Glennan, to wait on him on the night of the surrender. Strict orders had also been issued to the troops that women and children were not to be hurt. The butchery was the work of infuriated soldiers whose comrades had just been shot down without cause or warning. In justice to a brave regiment it must be said that a number of the men were new recruits fresh from eastern recruiting stations, who had never before been under fire, were not yet imbued with military discipline, and were probably unable in the confusion to distinguish between men and women by their dress.

After examining all the official papers bearing on the subject in the files of the War Department and the Indian Office, together with the official reports of the Commissioner of Indian Affairs and of the Secretary of War and the several officers engaged; after gathering all that might be obtained from unofficial printed sources and from conversation with survivors and participants in the engagement on both sides, and after going over the battle-ground in company with the interpreter of the scouts engaged, the author arrives at the conclusion that when the sun rose on Wounded Knee on the fatal morning of December 29, 1890, no trouble was anticipated or premeditated by either Indians or troops; that the Indians in good faith desired to surrender and be at peace, and that the officers in the same good faith had made preparations to receive their surrender and escort them quietly to the reservation; that in spite of the pacific intent of Big Foot and his band, the medicine-man, Yellow Bird, at the critical moment urged the warriors to resistance and gave the signal for the attack; that the first shot was fired by an Indian, and that the Indians were responsible for the engagement; that the answering volley and attack by the troops was right and justifiable, but that the wholesale slaughter of women and children was unnecessary and inexcusable.

Authorities differ as to the number of Indians present and killed at Wounded Knee. General Ruger states that the band numbered about 340, including about 100 warriors, but Major Whitside, to whom they surrendered, reported them officially as numbering 120 men and 250 women and children, a total of 370. (War, 15; G. D., 38.) This agrees almost exactly with the statement made to the author by Mr Asay, a trader who was present at the surrender. General Miles says that there were present 106 warriors, a few others being absent at the time in search of the party under Kicking Bear and Short Bull. (War, 16.) Among those who surrendered were about 70 refugees from the bands of Sitting Bull and Hump. (G. D., 39.) No exact account of the dead could be made immediately after the fight, on account of a second attack by another party of Indians coming up from the agency. Some of the dead and wounded left on the field were undoubtedly carried off by their friends before the burial party came out three days later, and of those brought in alive a number afterward died of wounds and exposure, but received no notice in the official reports. The Adjutant-General, in response to a letter of inquiry, states that 128 Indians were killed and 33 wounded. Commissioner Morgan, in his official report, makes the number killed 146. (Comr., 36.) Both these estimates are evidently too low. General Miles, in his final report, states that about 200 men, women, and children were killed. (War, 17.) General Colby, who commanded the Nebraska state troops, says that about 100 men and over 120 women and children were found dead on the field, a total of about 220. (Colby, 4.) Agent Royer telegraphed immediately after the fight that about 300 Indians had been killed, and General Miles, telegraphing on the same day, says, “I think very few Indians have escaped.” (G. D., 40.) Fifty-one Indians were brought in the same day by the troops, and a few others were found still alive by the burial party three days later. A number of these afterward died. No considerable number got away, being unable to reach their ponies after the fight began. General Miles states that 98 warriors were killed on the field. (War, 18.) The whole number killed on the field, or who later died from wounds and exposure, was probably very nearly 300.

According to an official statement from the Adjutant-General, 31 soldiers were killed in the battle. About as many more were wounded, one or two of whom afterward died. All of the killed, excepting Hospital Steward Pollock and an Indian scout named High Backbone, belonged to the Seventh cavalry, as did probably also nearly all of the wounded. The only commissioned officer killed was Captain Wallace. He received four bullet wounds in his body and finally sank under a hatchet stroke upon the head. Lieutenant E. A. Garlington, of the Seventh cavalry, and Lieutenant H. L. Hawthorne, of the Second artillery, were wounded. (War, 19.) The last-named officer owed his life to his watch, which deflected the bullet that otherwise would have passed through his body.

Below is given a complete list of officers and enlisted men who were killed, or died of wounds or exposure, in connection with the Sioux campaign. The statement is contained in an official letter of reply from the Adjutant-General’s office dated May 26, 1894. Unless otherwise noted all were of the Seventh cavalry and were killed on December 29, the date of the battle of Wounded Knee. In addition to these, two others, Henry Miller, a herder, and George Wilhauer, of the Nebraska militia, were killed in the same connection. With the 6 Indian police killed in arresting Sitting Bull, this makes a total of 49 deaths on the government side, including 7 Indians and a negro:

Adams, William. Bone, Albert S. (corporal, died of wounds). Casey, Edward W. (first lieutenant Twenty-second infantry, January 7). Coffey, Dora S. (first sergeant). Cook, Ralph L. Corwine, Richard W. (sergeant major). Costello, John. Cummings, Pierce. De Vreede, Jan. Dyer, Arthur C. (sergeant). Elliott, George (died of wounds, January 13). Francischetti, Dominic (December 30). Forrest, Harry R. (corporal). Frey, Henry. Grauberg, Herman (died of wounds, December 30). Haywood, Charles (Ninth cavalry, colored, December 30). High Backbone (Indian scout). Hodges, William T. (sergeant). Howard, Henry (sergeant, died of wounds, January 23). Johnson, George P. Kelley, James E. Kellner, August. Korn, Gustav (blacksmith). Logan, James. McClintock, William F. McCue, John M. Mann, James D. (first lieutenant, died of wounds, January 15). Meil, John W. (killed in railroad accident, January 26). Mezo, William S. Murphy, Joseph. Nettles, Robert H. (sergeant). Newell, Charles H. (corporal, died of wounds). Pollock, Oscar (hospital steward). Regan, Michael. Reinecky, Frank T. Schartel, Thomas (First artillery, killed in railroad accident, January 26). Schwenkey, Philip. Stone, Harry B. (died of wounds, January 12). Twohig, Daniel. Wallace, George B. (captain). Zehnder, Bernhard (died of wounds).

The heroic missionary priest, Father Craft, who had given a large part of his life to work among the Sioux, by whom he was loved and respected, had endeavored at the beginning of the trouble to persuade the stampeded Indians to come into the agency, but without success, the Indians claiming that no single treaty ever made with them had been fulfilled in all its stipulations. Many of the soldiers being of his own faith, he accompanied the detachment which received the surrender of Big Foot, to render such good offices as might be possible to either party. In the desperate encounter he was stabbed through the lungs, but yet, with bullets flying about him and hatchets and warclubs circling through the air, he went about his work, administering the last religious consolation to the dying until he fell unconscious from loss of blood. He was brought back to the agency along with the other wounded, and although his life was despaired of for some time, he finally recovered. In talking about Wounded Knee with one of the friendly warriors who had gone into the Bad Lands to urge the hostiles to come in, he spoke with warm admiration of Father Craft, and I asked why it was, then, that the Indians had tried to kill him. He replied, “They did not know him. Father Jutz [the priest at the Drexel Catholic mission, previously mentioned] always wears his black robe, but Father Craft on that day wore a soldier’s cap and overcoat. If he had worn his black robe, no Indian would have hurt him.” On inquiring afterward I learned that this was not correct, as Father Craft did have on his priestly robes. From the Indian statement, however, and the well-known affection in which he was held by the Sioux, it is probable that the Indian who stabbed him was too much excited at the moment to recognize him.

The news of the battle was brought to the agency by Lieutenant Guy Preston, of the Ninth cavalry, who, in company with a soldier and an Indian scout, made the ride of 16 or 18 miles in a little over an hour, one horse falling dead of exhaustion on the way. There were then at the agency, under command of General Brooke, about 300 men of the Second infantry and 50 Indian police.

The firing at Wounded Knee was plainly heard by the thousands of Indians camped about the agency at Pine Ridge, who had come in from the Bad Lands to surrender. They were at once thrown into great excitement, undoubtedly believing that there was a deliberate purpose on foot to disarm and massacre them all, and when the fugitives—women and children, most of them—began to come in, telling the story of the terrible slaughter of their friends and showing their bleeding wounds in evidence, the camp was divided between panic and desperation. A number of warriors mounted in haste and made all speed to the battle-ground, only about two hours distant, where they met the troops, who were now scattered about, hunting down the fugitives who might have escaped the first killing, and picking up the dead and wounded. The soldiers were driven in toward the center, where they threw up entrenchments, by means of which they were finally able to repel the attacking party. With the assistance of a body of Indian scouts and police, they then gathered up the dead and wounded soldiers, with some of the wounded Indians and a few other prisoners to the number of 51, and came into the agency. In the meantime the hostiles under Two Strike had opened fire on the agency from the neighboring hills and endeavored to approach, by way of a deep ravine, near enough to set fire to the buildings. General Brooke, desiring to avoid a general engagement, ordered out the Indian police—a splendidly drilled body of 50 brave men—who gallantly took their stand in the center of the agency inclosure, in full view of the hostiles, some of whom were their own relatives, and kept them off, returning the fire of besiegers with such good effect as to kill two and wound several others. The attacking party, as well as those who rode out to help their kinsmen at Wounded Knee, were not the Pine Ridge Indians (Ogalala) but the Brulé from Rosebud under the lead of Two Strike, Kicking Bear, and Short Bull. On the approach of the detachment returning from Wounded Knee almost the entire body that had come in to surrender broke away and fell back to a position on White Clay creek, where the next day found a camp of 4,000 Indians, and including more than a thousand warriors now thoroughly hostile. On the evening of the battle General Miles telegraphed to military headquarters, “Last night everything looked favorable for getting all the Indians under control; since report from Forsyth it looks more serious than at any other time.” (G. D., 41.) It seemed that all the careful work of the last month had been undone.

At the first indication of coming trouble in November all the outlying schools and mission stations on Pine Ridge reservation had been abandoned, and teachers, farmers, and missionaries had fled to the agency to seek the protection of the troops, all but the members of the Drexel Catholic mission, 5 miles northwest from the agency. Here the two or three priests and five Franciscan sisters remained quietly at their post, with a hundred little children around them, safe in the assurance of the “hostiles” that they would not be molested. While the fighting was going on at Wounded Knee and hundreds of furious warriors were firing into the agency, where the handful of whites were shivering in spite of the presence of troops and police, these gentle women and the kindly old German priest were looking after the children, feeding the frightened fugitive women, and tenderly caring for the wounded Indians who were being brought in from Wounded Knee and the agency. Throughout all these weeks of terror they went calmly about the duties to which they had consecrated their lives, and kept their little flock together and their school in operation, without the presence of a single soldier, completely cut off from the troops and the agency and surrounded by thousands of wild Indians.

Some time afterward, in talking with the Indians about the events of the campaign, the warrior who had spoken with such admiration of Father Craft referred with the same affectionate enthusiasm to Father Jutz, and said that when the infuriated Indians attacked the agency on hearing of the slaughter at Wounded Knee they had sent word to the mission that no one there need be afraid. “We told him to stay where he was and no Indian would disturb him,” said the warrior. He told how the priest and the sisters had fed the starving refugees and bound up the wounds of the survivors who escaped the slaughter, and then after a pause he said: “He is a brave man; braver than any Indian.” Curious to know why this man had not joined the hostiles, among whom were several of his near relatives, I asked him the question. His reply was simple: “I had a little boy at the Drexel mission. He died and Father Jutz put a white stone over him. That is why I did not join the hostiles.”

While visiting Pine Ridge in 1891 I went out to see the Drexel school and found Father John Jutz, a simple, kindly old German from the Tyrol, with one or two other German lay brothers and five Franciscan sisters, Americans. Although but a recent establishment, the school was in flourishing condition, bearing in everything the evidences of orderly industry. Like a true German of the Alps, Father Jutz had already devised a way to make jelly from the wild plums and excellent wine from the chokecherry. While talking, the recess hour arrived and a bevy of small children came trooping in, pushing over one another in the effort to get hold of a finger of the good father, or at least to hold on to his robe while he led them into another room where one of the sisters gave to each a ginger cake, hot from the oven. The room was filled with the shouts and laughter of the children and the father explained, “Children get hungry, and we always have some cakes for the little ones at recess. I let the boys be noisy in the playroom as long as they don’t fight. It is good for them.” Looking at the happy, noisy crowd around the black-gowned missionary and sister, it was easy to see how they had felt safe in the affection of the Indians through all the days and nights when others were trembling behind breastworks and files of soldiers. Referring to what the Indians had told me, I asked Father Jutz if it was true that the hostiles had sent word to them not to be afraid. He replied, “Yes; they had sent word that no one in the mission need be alarmed,” and then, with a gentle smile, he added, “But it was never our intention to leave.” It was plain enough that beneath the quiet exterior there burned the old missionary fire of Jogues and Marquette.

The conflict at Wounded Knee bore speedy fruit. On the same day, as has been said, a part of the Indians under Two Strike attacked the agency and the whole body of nearly 4,000 who had come in to surrender started back again to intrench themselves in preparation for renewed hostilities. On the morning of December 30, the next day after the fight, the wagon train of the Ninth cavalry (colored) was attacked within 2 miles of the agency while coming in with supplies. One soldier was killed, but the Indians were repulsed with the loss of several of their number.

On the same day news came to the agency that the hostiles had attacked the Catholic mission 5 miles out, and Colonel Forsyth with eight troops of the Seventh cavalry and one piece of artillery was ordered by General Brooke to go out and drive them off. It proved that the hostiles had set fire to several houses between the mission and the agency, but the mission had not been disturbed. As the troops approached the hostiles fell back, but Forsyth failed to occupy the commanding hills and was consequently surrounded by the Indians, who endeavored to draw him into a canyon and pressed him so closely that he was obliged to send back three times for reinforcements. Major Henry had just arrived at the agency with a detachment of the Ninth cavalry, and on hearing the noise of the firing started at once to the relief of Forsyth with four troops of cavalry and a Hotchkiss gun. On arriving on the ground he occupied the hills and thus succeeded in driving off the hostiles without further casualty, and rescued the Seventh from its dangerous position. In this skirmish, known as the “mission fight,” the Seventh lost one officer, Lieutenant Mann, and a private, Dominic Francischetti, killed, and seven wounded. (War, 20; G. D., 42.)

The conduct of the colored troops of the Ninth cavalry on this occasion deserves the highest commendation. At the time of the battle at Wounded Knee, the day before, they were in the Bad Lands, about 80 or 90 miles out from Pine Ridge, when the order was sent for them to come in to aid in repelling the attack on the agency. By riding all night they arrived at the agency at daylight, together with two Hotchkiss guns, in charge of Lieutenant John Hayden of the First artillery. Hardly had they dismounted when word arrived that their wagon train, coming on behind, was attacked, and they were obliged to go out again to its relief, as already described. On coming in again they lay down to rest after their long night ride, when they were once more called out to go to the aid of the Seventh at the mission. Jumping into the saddle they rode at full speed to the mission, 5 miles out, repelled the hostiles and saved the command, and returned to the agency, after having ridden over 100 miles and fought two engagements within thirty hours. Lieutenant Hayden, with his Hotchkiss, who had come in with them from the Bad Lands, took part also with them in the mission fight.

On the same evening Standing Soldier, an Indian scout, arrived at the agency with a party of 65 Indians, including 18 men. These were a part of Big Foot’s or Short Bull’s following, who had lost their way during the flight from Cheyenne river and were hunting for the rest of the band when captured by the scouts. They were not aware of the death of Big Foot and the extermination of his band, but after having been disarmed and put under guard they were informed of it, but only in a mild way, in order not to provoke undue excitement. (G. D., 43.)

Immediately after the battle of Wounded Knee, in consequence of the panic among the frontier settlers of Nebraska, the Nebraska state troops were called out under command of General L. W. Colby. They were stationed at the most exposed points between the settlements and the reservation and remained in the field until the surrender of the hostiles two weeks later. The only casualty among them was the death of private George Wilhauer, who was accidentally shot by a picket. (Colby, 5.)

On New Year’s day of 1891, three days after the battle, a detachment of troops was sent out to Wounded Knee to gather up and bury the Indian dead and to bring in the wounded who might be still alive on the field. In the meantime there had been a heavy snowstorm, culminating in a blizzard. The bodies of the slaughtered men, women, and children were found lying about under the snow, frozen stiff and covered with blood (plate +XCVIII+). Almost all the dead warriors were found lying near where the fight began, about Big Foot’s tipi, but the bodies of the women and children were found scattered along for 2 miles from the scene of the encounter, showing that they had been killed while trying to escape. (Comr., 37; Colby, 6.) A number of women and children were found still alive, but all badly wounded or frozen, or both, and most of them died after being brought in. Four babies were found alive under the snow, wrapped in shawls and lying beside their dead mothers, whose last thought had been of them. They were all badly frozen and only one lived. The tenacity of life so characteristic of wild people as well as of wild beasts was strikingly illustrated in the case of these wounded and helpless Indian women and children who thus lived three days through a Dakota blizzard, without food, shelter, or attention to their wounds. It is a commentary on our boasted Christian civilization that although there were two or three salaried missionaries at the agency not one went out to say a prayer over the poor mangled bodies of these victims of war. The Catholic priests had reasons for not being present, as one of them, Father Craft, was lying in the hospital with a dangerous wound received on the battlefield while bravely administering to the dying wants of the soldiers in the heat of the encounter, and the other, Father Jutz, an old man of 70 years, was at the mission school 5 miles away, still attending to his little flock of 100 children as before the trouble began, and unaware of what was transpiring at the agency.

A long trench was dug and into it were thrown all the bodies, piled one upon another like so much cordwood, until the pit was full, when the earth was heaped over them and the funeral was complete (plate +C+). Many of the bodies were stripped by the whites, who went out in order to get the “ghost shirts,” and the frozen bodies were thrown into the trench stiff and naked. They were only dead Indians. As one of the burial party said, “It was a thing to melt the heart of a man, if it was of stone, to see those little children, with their bodies shot to pieces, thrown naked into the pit.” The dead soldiers had already been brought in and buried decently at the agency. When the writer visited the spot the following winter, the Indians had put up a wire fence around the trench and smeared the posts with sacred red medicine paint (plate +CI+).

A baby girl of only three or four months was found under the snow, carefully wrapped up in a shawl, beside her dead mother, whose body was pierced by two bullets. On her head was a little cap of buckskin, upon which the American flag was embroidered in bright beadwork. She had lived through all the exposure, being only slightly frozen, and soon recovered after being brought into the agency. Her mother being killed, and, in all probability, her father also, she was adopted by General Colby, commanding the Nebraska state troops. The Indian women in camp gave her the poetic name of Zitkala-noni, “Lost Bird,” and by the family of her adoption she was baptized under the name of Marguerite (figure 80). She is now (1896) living in the general’s family at Washington, a chubby little girl 6 years of age, as happy with her dolls and playthings as a little girl of that age ought to be.

Another little girl about 5 years of age was picked up on the battlefield and brought in by the Indian police on the afternoon of the fight. She was adopted by George Sword, captain of the Indian police, and is now living with him under the name of Jennie Sword, a remarkably pretty little girl, gentle and engaging in her manners (figure 81).

A little boy of four years, the son of Yellow Bird, the medicine-man, was playing on his pony in front of a tipi when the firing began. As he described it some time ago in lisping English: “My father ran and fell down and the blood came out of his mouth [he was shot through the head], and then a soldier put his gun up to my white pony’s nose and shot him, and then I ran and a policeman got me.” As his father was thus killed and his mother was already dead, he was adopted by Mrs Lucy Arnold, who had been a teacher among the Sioux and knew his family before the trouble began. She had already given him his name, Herbert Zitkalazi, the last word being the Sioux form of his father’s name, “Yellow Bird.” She brought him back with her to Washington, where he soon learned English and became a general favorite of all who knew him for his affectionate disposition and unusual intelligence, with genuine boyish enthusiasm in all he undertook. His picture here given (figure 82) is from a photograph made in Lafayette park, Washington, in 1892. His adopted mother having resumed her school work among his tribe, he is now back with her, attending school under her supervision at Standing Rock, where, as in Washington, he seems to be a natural leader among those of his own age. When we think of these children and consider that only by the merest accident they escaped the death that overtook a hundred other children at Wounded Knee, who may all have had in themselves the same possibilities of affection, education, and happy usefulness, we can understand the sickening meaning of such affairs as the Chivington massacre in Colorado and the Custer fight on the Washita, where the newspaper reports merely that “the enemy was surprised and the Indian camp destroyed.”

The Indian scouts at Wounded Knee, like the Indian police at Grand river and Pine Ridge, were brave and loyal, as has been the almost universal rule with Indians when enlisted in the government service, even when called on, as were these, to serve against their own tribe and relatives. The prairie Indian is a born soldier, with all the soldier’s pride of loyalty to duty, and may be trusted implicitly after he has once consented to enter the service. The scouts at Wounded Knee were Sioux, with Philip Wells as interpreter. Other Sioux scouts were ranging the country between the agency and the hostile camp in the Bad Lands, and acted as mediators in the peace negotiations which led to the final surrender. Fifty Cheyenne and about as many Crow scouts were also employed in the same section of country. Throughout the entire campaign the Indian scouts and police were faithful and received the warmest commendation of their officers.

On New Year’s day, 1891, Henry Miller, a herder, was killed by Indians a few miles from the agency. This was the only noncombatant killed by the Indians during the entire campaign, and during the same period there was no depredation committed by them outside of the reservation. On the next day the agent reported that the school buildings and Episcopal church on White Clay creek had been burned by hostiles, who were then camped to the number of about 3,000 on Grass creek, 15 miles northeast of the agency. They had captured the government beef herd and were depending on it for food. Red Cloud, Little Wound, and their people were with them and were reported as anxious to return, but prevented by the hostile leaders, Two Strike, Short Bull, and Kicking Bear, who threatened to kill the first one who made a move to come in. (G. D., 44.) A few days later a number of Red Cloud’s men came in and surrendered and reported that the old chief was practically a prisoner and wanted the soldiers to come and rescue him from the hostiles, who were trying to force him into the war. They reported further that there was much suffering from cold and hunger in the Indian camp, and that all the Ogalala (Red Cloud’s people of Pine Ridge) were intending to come in at once in a body.

On the 3d of January General Miles took up his headquarters at Pine Ridge and directed General Brooke to assume immediate command of the troops surrounding the hostile camp. Brooke’s men swung out to form the western and northern part of a circle about the hostiles, cutting them off from the Bad Lands, while the troops under General Carr closed in on the east and northeast in such a way that the Indians were hemmed in and unable to make a move in any direction excepting toward the agency.

On January 3 a party of hostiles attacked a detachment of the Sixth cavalry under Captain Kerr on Grass creek, a few miles north of the agency, but were quickly repulsed with the loss of four of their number, the troops having been reinforced by other detachments in the vicinity. In this engagement the Indian scouts again distinguished themselves. (War, 21.) The effect of this repulse was to check the westward movement of the hostiles and hold them in their position along White Clay creek until their passion had somewhat abated.

On January 5 there was another encounter on Wounded Knee creek. A small detachment which had been sent out to meet a supply train coming into the agency found the wagons drawn up in a square to resist an attack made by a band of about 50 Indians. The soldiers joined forces with the teamsters, and by firing from behind the protection of the wagons succeeded in driving off the Indians and killing a number of their horses. The hostiles were reinforced, however, and a hard skirmish was kept up for several hours until more troops arrived from the agency about dark, having been sent in answer to a courier who managed to elude the attacking party. The troops charged on a gallop and the Indians retreated, having lost several killed and wounded, besides a number of their horses. (Colby, 7.)

Amid all these warlike alarms the gentle muse Calliope hovered over the field and inspired W. H. Prather, a colored private of troop I of the Ninth cavalry, to the production of the ballad given below, one of the few good specimens of American ballad poetry, and worthy of equal place with “Captain Lovewell’s Fight,” “Old Quebec,” or anything that originated in the late rebellion. It became a favorite among the troops in camp and with the scattered frontiersmen of Dakota and Nebraska, being sung to a simple air with vigor and expression and a particularly rousing chorus, and is probably by this time a classic of the barracks. It is here reproduced verbatim from the printed slip published for distribution among the soldiers during the campaign.

+The Indian Ghost Dance and War+

The Red Skins left their Agency, the Soldiers left their Post, All on the strength of an Indian tale about Messiah’s ghost Got up by savage chieftains to lead their tribes astray; But Uncle Sam wouldn’t have it so, for he ain’t built that way. They swore that this Messiah came to them in visions sleep, And promised to restore their game and Buffalos a heap, So they must start a big ghost dance, then all would join their band, And may be so we lead the way into the great Bad Land. Chorus: They claimed the shirt Messiah gave, no bullet could go through, But when the Soldiers fired at them they saw this was not true. The Medicine man supplied them with their great Messiah’s grace, And he, too, pulled his freight and swore the 7th hard to face.

About their tents the Soldiers stood, awaiting one and all, That they might hear the trumpet clear when sounding General call Or Boots and Saddles in a’rush, that each and every man Might mount in haste, ride soon and fast to stop this devilish band But Generals great like Miles and Brooke don’t do things up that way, For they know an Indian like a book, and let him have his sway Until they think him far enough and then to John they’ll say, “You had better stop your fooling or we’ll bring our guns to play.” Chorus.—They claimed the shirt, etc.

The 9th marched out with splendid cheer the Bad Lands to explo’e— With Col. Henry at their head they never fear the foe; So on they rode from Xmas eve ’till dawn of Xmas day; The Red Skins heard the 9th was near and fled in great dismay; The 7th is of courage bold both officers and men, But bad luck seems to follow them and twice has took them in; They came in contact with Big Foot’s warriors in their fierce might This chief made sure he had a chance of vantage in the fight. Chorus.—They claimed the shirt, etc.

A fight took place, ’twas hand to hand, unwarned by trumpet call, While the Sioux were dropping man by man—the 7th killed them all, And to that regiment be said “Ye noble braves, well done, Although you lost some gallant men a glorious fight you’ve won.” The 8th was there, the sixth rode miles to swell that great command And waited orders night and day to round up Short Bull’s band. The Infantry marched up in mass the Cavalry’s support, And while the latter rounded up, the former held the fort. Chorus.—They claimed the shirt, etc.

E battery of the 1st stood by and did their duty well, For every time the Hotchkiss barked they say a hostile fell. Some Indian soldiers chipped in too and helped to quell the fray, And now the campaign’s ended and the soldiers marched away. So all have done their share, you see, whether it was thick or thin, And all helped break the ghost dance up and drive the hostiles in. The settlers in that region now can breathe with better grace; They only ask and pray to God to make John hold his base. Chorus.—They claimed the shirt, etc. (W. H. Prather, I, 9th Cavalry).

APPENDIX—THE INDIAN STORY OF WOUNDED KNEE

[_From the Report of the Commissioner of Indian Affairs for 1891, volume 1, pages 179–181. Extracts from verbatim stenographic report of council held by delegations of Sioux with Commissioner of Indian Affairs, at Washington, February 11, 1891._]

+Turning Hawk+, Pine Ridge (Mr Cook, interpreter). Mr Commissioner, my purpose to-day is to tell you what I know of the condition of affairs at the agency where I live. A certain falsehood came to our agency from the west which had the effect of a fire upon the Indians, and when this certain fire came upon our people those who had farsightedness and could see into the matter made up their minds to stand up against it and fight it. The reason we took this hostile attitude to this fire was because we believed that you yourself would not be in favor of this particular mischief-making thing; but just as we expected, the people in authority did not like this thing and we were quietly told that we must give up or have nothing to do with this certain movement. Though this is the advice from our good friends in the east, there were, of course, many silly young men who were longing to become identified with the movement, although they knew that there was nothing absolutely bad, nor did they know there was anything absolutely good, in connection with the movement.

In the course of time we heard that the soldiers were moving toward the scene of trouble. After awhile some of the soldiers finally reached our place and we heard that a number of them also reached our friends at Rosebud. Of course, when a large body of soldiers is moving toward a certain direction they inspire a more or less amount of awe, and it is natural that the women and children who see this large moving mass are made afraid of it and be put in a condition to make them run away. At first we thought that Pine Ridge and Rosebud were the only two agencies where soldiers were sent, but finally we heard that the other agencies fared likewise. We heard and saw that about half our friends at Rosebud agency, from fear at seeing the soldiers, began the move of running away from their agency toward ours (Pine Ridge), and when they had gotten inside of our reservation they there learned that right ahead of them at our agency was another large crowd of soldiers, and while the soldiers were there, there was constantly a great deal of false rumor flying back and forth. The special rumor I have in mind is the threat that the soldiers had come there to disarm the Indians entirely and to take away all their horses from them. That was the oft-repeated story.

So constantly repeated was this story that our friends from Rosebud, instead of going to Pine Ridge, the place of their destination, veered off and went to some other direction toward the “Bad Lands.” We did not know definitely how many, but understood there were 300 lodges of them, about 1,700 people. Eagle Pipe, Turning Bear, High Hawk, Short Bull, Lance, No Flesh, Pine Bird, Crow Dog, Two Strike, and White Horse were the leaders.

Well, the people after veering off in this way, many of them who believe in peace and order at our agency, were very anxious that some influence should be brought upon these people. In addition to our love of peace we remembered that many of these people were related to us by blood. So we sent out peace commissioners to the people who were thus running away from their agency.

I understood at the time that they were simply going away from fear because of so many soldiers. So constant was the word of these good men from Pine Ridge agency that finally they succeeded in getting away half of the party from Rosebud, from the place where they took refuge, and finally were brought to the agency at Pine Ridge. Young-Man-Afraid-of-his-Horses, Little Wound, Fast Thunder, Louis Shangreau, John Grass, Jack Red Cloud, and myself were some of these peace-makers.

The remnant of the party from Rosebud not taken to the agency finally reached the wilds of the Bad Lands. Seeing that we had succeeded so well, once more we sent to the same party in the Bad Lands and succeeded in bringing these very Indians out of the depths of the Bad Lands and were being brought toward the agency. When we were about a day’s journey from our agency we heard that a certain party of Indians (Big Foot’s band) from the Cheyenne River agency was coming toward Pine Ridge in flight.

+Captain Sword.+ Those who actually went off of the Cheyenne River agency probably number 303, and there were a few from the Standing Rook reserve with them, but as to their number I do not know. There were a number of Ogalallas, old men and several school boys, coming back with that very same party, and one of the very seriously wounded boys was a member of the Ogalalla boarding school at Pine Ridge agency. He was not on the warpath, but was simply returning home to his agency and to his school after a summer visit to relatives on the Cheyenne river.

+Turning Hawk.+ When we heard that these people were coming toward our agency we also heard this. These people were coming toward Pine Ridge agency, and when they were almost on the agency they were met by the soldiers and surrounded and finally taken to the Wounded Knee creek, and there at a given time their guns were demanded. When they had delivered them up, the men were separated from their families, from their tipis, and taken to a certain spot. When the guns were thus taken and the men thus separated, there was a crazy man, a young man of very bad influence and in fact a nobody, among that bunch of Indians fired his gun, and of course the firing of a gun must have been the breaking of a military rule of some sort, because immediately the soldiers returned fire and indiscriminate killing followed.

+Spotted Horse.+ This man shot an officer in the army; the first shot killed this officer. I was a voluntary scout at that encounter and I saw exactly what was done, and that was what I noticed; that the first shot killed an officer. As soon as this shot was fired the Indians immediately began drawing their knives, and they were exhorted from all sides to desist, but this was not obeyed. Consequently the firing began immediately on the part of the soldiers.

+Turning Hawk.+ All the men who were in a bunch were killed right there, and those who escaped that first fire got into the ravine, and as they went along up the ravine for a long distance they were pursued on both sides by the soldiers and shot down, as the dead bodies showed afterwards. The women were standing off at a different place from where the men were stationed, and when the firing began, those of the men who escaped the first onslaught went in one direction up the ravine, and then the women, who were bunched together at another place, went entirely in a different direction through an open field, and the women fared the same fate as the men who went up the deep ravine.

+American Horse.+ The men were separated, as has already been said, from the women, and they were surrounded by the soldiers. Then came next the village of the Indians and that was entirely surrounded by the soldiers also. When the firing began, of course the people who were standing immediately around the young man who fired the first shot were killed right together, and then they turned their guns, Hotchkiss guns, etc., upon the women who were in the lodges standing there under a flag of truce, and of course as soon as they were fired upon they fled, the men fleeing in one direction and the women running in two different directions. So that there were three general directions in which they took flight.

There was a women with an infant in her arms who was killed as she almost touched the flag of truce, and the women and children of course were strewn all along the circular village until they were dispatched. Right near the flag of truce a mother was shot down with her infant; the child not knowing that its mother was dead was still nursing, and that especially was a very sad sight. The women as they were fleeing with their babes were killed together, shot right through, and the women who were very heavy with child were also killed. All the Indians fled in these three directions, and after most all of them had been killed a cry was made that all those who were not killed or wounded should come forth and they would be safe. Little boys who were not wounded came out of their places of refuge, and as soon as they came in sight a number of soldiers surrounded them and butchered them there.

Of course we all feel very sad about this affair. I stood very loyal to the government all through those troublesome days, and believing so much in the government and being so loyal to it, my disappointment was very strong, and I have come to Washington with a very great blame on my heart. Of course it would have been all right if only the men were killed; we would feel almost grateful for it. But the fact of the killing of the women, and more especially the killing of the young boys and girls who are to go to make up the future strength of the Indian people, is the saddest part of the whole affair and we feel it very sorely.

I was not there at the time before the burial of the bodies, but I did go there with some of the police and the Indian doctor and a great many of the people, men from the agency, and we went through the battlefield and saw where the bodies were from the track of the blood.

+Turning Hawk.+ I had just reached the point where I said that the women were killed. We heard, besides the killing of the men, of the onslaught also made upon the women and children, and they were treated as roughly and indiscriminately as the men and boys were.

Of course this affair brought a great deal of distress upon all the people, but especially upon the minds of those who stood loyal to the government and who did all that they were able to do in the matter of bringing about peace. They especially have suffered much distress and are very much hurt at heart. These peace-makers continued on in their good work, but there were a great many fickle young men who were ready to be moved by the change in the events there, and consequently, in spite of the great fire that was brought upon all, they were ready to assume any hostile attitude. These young men got themselves in readiness and went in the direction of the scene of battle so they might be of service there. They got there and finally exchanged shots with the soldiers. This party of young men was made up from Rosebud, Ogalalla (Pine Ridge), and members of any other agencies that happened to be there at the time. While this was going on in the neighborhood of Wounded Knee—the Indians and soldiers exchanging shots—the agency, our home, was also fired into by the Indians. Matters went on in this strain until the evening came on, and then the Indians went off down by White Clay creek. When the agency was fired upon by the Indians from the hillside, of course the shots were returned by the Indian police who were guarding the agency buildings.

Although fighting seemed to have been in the air, yet those who believed in peace were still constant at their work. Young-Man-Afraid-of-his-Horses, who had been on a visit to some other agency in the north or northwest, returned, and immediately went out to the people living about White Clay creek, on the border of the Bad Lands, and brought his people out. He succeeded in obtaining the consent of the people to come out of their place of refuge and return to the agency. Thus the remaining portion of the Indians who started from Rosebud were brought back into the agency. Mr Commissioner, during the days of the great whirlwind out there, those good men tried to hold up a counteracting power, and that was “Peace.” We have now come to realize that peace has prevailed and won the day. While we were engaged in bringing about peace our property was left behind, of course, and most of us have lost everything, even down to the matter of guns with which to kill ducks, rabbits, etc, shotguns, and guns of that order. When Young-Man-Afraid brought the people in and their guns were asked for, both men who were called hostile and men who stood loyal to the government delivered up their guns.

+Chapter XIV+

CLOSE OF THE OUTBREAK—THE GHOST DANCE IN THE SOUTH

In the meantime overtures of peace had been made by General Miles to the hostiles, most of whose leaders he knew personally, having received their surrender on the Yellowstone ten years before, at the close of the Custer war. On the urgent representations of himself and others Congress had also appropriated the necessary funds for carrying out the terms of the late treaty, by the disregard of which most of the trouble had been caused, so that the commander was now able to assure the Indians that their rights and necessities would receive attention. They were urged to come in and surrender, with a guaranty that the general himself would represent their case with the government. At the same time they were informed that retreat was cut off and that further resistance would be unavailing. As an additional step toward regaining their confidence, the civilian agents were removed from the several disturbed agencies, which were then put in charge of military officers well known and respected by the Indians. Cheyenne River agency was assigned to Captain J. H. Hurst, and Rosebud agency to Captain J. M. Lee, while Royer, at Pine Ridge, was superseded on January 8 by Captain. F. E. Pierce. The last-named officer was afterward relieved by Captain Charles G. Penney, who is now in charge. (War, 22; Comr., 38; G. D., 45.)

The friendly overtures made by General Miles, with evidences that the government desired to remedy their grievances, and that longer resistance was hopeless, had their effect on the hostiles. Little Wound, Young-man-afraid-of-his-horses (more properly, “Young-man-of-whose-horses-they-are-afraid”), Big Road, and other friendly chiefs, also used their persuasions with such good effect that by January 12 the whole body of nearly 4,000 Indians had moved in to within sight of the agency and expressed their desire for peace. The troops closed in around them, and on the 16th of January, 1891, the hostiles surrendered, and the outbreak was at an end. They complied with every order and direction given by the commander, and gave up nearly 200 rifles, which, with other arms already surrendered, made a total of between 600 and 700 guns, more than had ever before been surrendered by the Sioux at one time. As a further guaranty of good faith, the commander demanded the surrender of Kicking Bear and Short Bull, the principal leaders, with about twenty other prominent warriors, as hostages. The demand was readily complied with, and the men designated came forward voluntarily and gave themselves up as sureties for the good conduct of their people. They were sent to Fort Sheridan, Illinois, near Chicago, where they were kept until there was no further apprehension, and were then returned to their homes. (War, 23; Colby, 8.) After the surrender the late hostiles pitched their camp, numbering in all 742 tipis, in the bottom along White Clay creek, just west of the agency, where General Miles had supplies of beef, coffee, and sugar issued to them from the commissary department, and that night they enjoyed the first full meal they had known in several weeks.

Thus ended the so-called Sioux outbreak of 1890–91. It might be better designated, however, as a Sioux panic and stampede, for, to quote the expressive letter of McGillycuddy, writing under date of January 15, 1891, “Up to date there has been neither a Sioux outbreak or war. No citizen in Nebraska or Dakota has been killed, molested, or can show the scratch of a pin, and no property has been destroyed off the reservation.” (Colby, 9.) Only a single noncombatant was killed by the Indians, and that was close to the agency. The entire time occupied by the campaign, from the killing of Sitting Bull to the surrender at Pine Ridge, was only thirty-two days. The late hostiles were returned to their homes as speedily as possible. The Brulé of Rosebud, regarded as the most turbulent of the hostiles, were taken back to the agency by Captain Lee, for whom they had respect, founded on an acquaintance of several years’ standing, without escort and during the most intense cold of winter, but without any trouble or dissatisfaction whatever. The military were returned to their usual stations, and within a few weeks after the surrender affairs at the various agencies were moving again in the usual channel.

An unfortunate event occurred just before the surrender in the killing of Lieutenant E. W. Casey of the Twenty-second infantry by Plenty Horses, a young Brulé, on January 7. Lieutenant Casey was in command of a troop of Cheyenne scouts, and was stationed at the mouth of White Clay creek, charged with the special duty of watching the hostile camp, which was located 8 miles farther up the creek at No Water’s place. On the day before his death several of the hostiles had visited him and held a friendly conference. The next morning, in company with two scouts, he went out avowedly for the purpose of observing the hostile camp more closely. He rode up to within a short distance of the camp, meeting and talking with several of the Indians on the way, and had stopped to talk with a half-blood relative of Red Cloud, when Plenty Horses, a short distance away, deliberately shot him through the head, and he fell from his horse dead. His body was not disturbed by the Indians, but was brought in by some of the Cheyenne scouts soon after. Plenty Horses was arraigned before a United States court, but was acquitted on the ground that as the Sioux were then at war and the officer was practically a spy upon the Indian camp, the act was not murder in the legal sense of the word. Lieutenant Casey had been for a year in charge of the Cheyenne scouts and had taken great interest in their welfare and proficiency, and his death was greatly deplored by the Indians as the insane act of a boy overcome by the excitement of the times. (War, 24; Comr., 39; Colby, 10; G. D., 46.)

On January 11 an unprovoked murder was committed on a small party of peaceable Indians on Belle Fourche, or North fork of Cheyenne river, by which the Indians who had come in to surrender were once more thrown into such alarm that for a time it seemed as if serious trouble might result. A party of Ogalala from Pine Ridge, consisting of Few Tails, a kindly, peaceable old man, with his wife, an old woman, and One Feather, with his wife and two children—one a girl about 13 years of age and the other an infant—had been hunting in the Black Hills under a pass from the agency. They had had a successful hunt, and were returning with their two wagons well loaded with meat, when they camped for the night at the mouth of Alkali creek. During the evening they were visited by some soldiers stopping at a ranch a few miles distant, who examined their pass and pronounced it all right. In the morning, after breakfast, the Indians started on again toward the agency, but had gone only a few hundred yards when they were fired upon by a party of white men concealed near the road. The leaders of the whites were three brothers named Culbertson, one of whom had but recently returned from the penitentiary. One of the murderers had visited the Indians in their camp the night before, and even that very morning. At the first fire Few Tails was killed, together with both ponies attached to the wagon. His wife jumped out and received two bullets, which brought her to the ground. The murderers rode past her, however, to get at the other Indian, who was coming up behind in the other wagon with his wife and two children. As soon as he saw his companion killed, One Feather turned his wagon in the other direction, and, telling his wife, who had also been shot, to drive on as fast as she could to save the children, he jumped upon one of the spare ponies and held off the murderers until his family had had time to make some distance. He then turned and joined his family and drove on for some 8 or 10 miles until the pursuers came up again, when he again turned and fought them off, while his wife went ahead with the wagon and the children. The wounded woman bravely drove on, while the two little children lay down in the wagon with their heads covered up in the blankets. As they drove they passed near a house, from which several other shots were fired at the flying mother, when her husband again rode up and kept off the whole party until the wagon could get ahead. Finally, as the ponies were tired out, this heroic man abandoned the wagon and put the two children on one of the spare ponies and his wounded wife and himself upon another and continued to retreat until the whites gave up the pursuit. He finally reached the agency with the wife and children.

The wife of Few Tails, after falling wounded by two bullets beside the wagon in which was her dead husband, lay helpless and probably unconscious upon the ground through all the long winter night until morning, when she revived, and finding one of the horses still alive, mounted it and managed by night to reach a settler’s house about 15 miles away. Instead of meeting help and sympathy, however, she was driven off by the two men there with loaded rifles, and leaving her horse in her fright, she hurried away as well as she could with a bullet in her leg and another in her breast, passing by the trail of One Feather’s wagon with the tracks of his pursuers fresh behind it, until she came near a trader’s store about 20 miles farther south. Afraid to go near it on account of her last experience, the poor woman circled around it, and continued, wounded, cold, and starving as she was, to travel by night and hide by day until she reached the Bad Lands. The rest may be told in her own words:

After that I traveled every night, resting daytime, until I got here at the beef corral. Then I was very tired, and was near the military camp, and early in the morning a soldier came out and he shouted something back, and in a few minutes fifty men were there, and they got a blanket and took me to a tent. I had no blanket and my feet were swelled, and I was about ready to die. After I got to the tent a doctor came in—a soldier doctor, because he had straps on his shoulders—and washed me and treated me well.

A few of the soldiers camped near the scene of the attack had joined in the pursuit at the beginning, on the representations of some of the murderers, but abandoned it as soon as they found their mistake. According to all the testimony, the killing was a wanton, unprovoked, and deliberate murder, yet the criminals were acquitted in the local courts. The apathy displayed by the authorities of Meade county, South Dakota, in which the murder was committed, called forth some vigorous protests. Colonel Shafter, in his statement of the case, concludes, referring to the recent killing of Lieutenant Casey: “So long as Indians are being arrested and held for killing armed men under conditions of war, it seems to me that the white murderers of a part of a band of peaceful Indians should not be permitted to escape punishment.” The Indians took the same view of the case, and when General Miles demanded of Young-man-afraid-of-his-horses the surrender of the slayers of Casey and the herder Miller, the old chief indignantly replied: “No; I will not surrender them, but if you will bring the white men who killed Few Tails, I will bring the Indians who killed the white soldier and the herder; and right out here in front of your tipi I will have my young men shoot the Indians and you have your soldiers shoot the white men, and then we will be done with the whole business.”

In regard to the heroic conduct of One Feather, the officer then in charge of the agency says: “The determination and genuine courage, as well as the generalship he manifested in keeping at a distance the six men who were pursuing him, and the devotion he showed toward his family, risking his life against great odds, designate him as entitled to a place on the list of heroes.” (War, 25; Comr., 40; G. D., 47.)

On the recommendation of General Miles, a large delegation of the principal leaders of both friendly and hostile parties among the Sioux was allowed to visit Washington in February, 1891, to present their grievances and suggest remedies for dissatisfaction in the future. Among the principal speakers were: From Pine Ridge, American Horse, Captain George Sword, Big Road, and He Dog; from Rosebud, White Bird and Turning Hawk; from Cheyenne River, Little No Heart and Straight Head; from Standing Rock, John Grass and Mad Bear. The interpreters were Reverend C. S. Cook, David Zephier, Louis Primeau, Louis Richard, Clarence Three Stars, and Louis Shangreau. Their visit was eminently satisfactory and resulted in the inauguration of a more efficient administration of Sioux affairs for the future. Steps were taken to reimburse those whose ponies had been confiscated at the time of the Custer war in 1876, and additional appropriations were made for rations, so that before the end of the year the Indians were receiving half as much more as before the outbreak. (War, 26.) On returning to their homes the Indians of the various Sioux agencies went to work in good faith putting in their crops and caring for their stock, and in a short time all further apprehension was at an end.

The discussion of Indian affairs in connection with the outbreak led to the passage by Congress of a bill which enacted that all future vacancies in the office of Indian agent should be filled by military officers selected by the Indian office and detailed for the purpose from the army. At the same time a plan was originated to enlist Indians as a component part of the regular army. Small parties from various tribes had long been attached to various posts and commands in an irregular capacity as scouts. These bodies of scouts were now reduced in number or disbanded altogether, and in their stead were organized Indian troops or companies to be regularly attached to the different cavalry or infantry regiments. In the spring of 1891 officers were sent out to various western reservations, and succeeded in thus recruiting a number of regular troops from among the most warlike of the tribes, a considerable part of these coming from the late hostile Sioux.

Although the campaign lasted only about a month the destruction of life was great, for an Indian war, and the money loss to the government and to individuals was something enormous. Three officers and 28 privates were killed or mortally wounded during the campaign, and 4 officers and 38 privates were less seriously wounded, several of these dying later on. (War, 27.) The Indian loss can not be stated exactly. In the arrest of Sitting Bull there were killed or mortally wounded 8 of Sitting Bull’s party and 6 police, a total of 14. Those killed in the Wounded Knee fight, or who afterward died of wounds or exposure, numbered, according to the best estimates, at least 250. Those afterward killed in the various small skirmishes, including the Few Tails affair, may have numbered 20 or 30. In all, the campaign cost the lives of 49 whites and others on the government side and about 300 or more Indians.

The direct or incidental expenses of the campaign were as follows: Expenses of the Department of Justice for defending Plenty Horses and prosecuting the murderers of Few Tails, unknown; appropriation by Congress to reimburse Nebraska national guard for expense of service during the campaign, $43,000; paid out under act of Congress to reimburse friendly Indians and other legal residents on the reservations for property destroyed by hostiles, $97,646.85 (Comr., 41); extra expense of Commissary department of the army, $37,764.69; extra expense of the Medical department of the army, $1,164, besides extra supplies purchased by individuals; extra expenses of Ordnance department of the army, for ammunition, not accounted for; total extra expense of Quartermaster’s department of the army, $915,078.81, including $120,634.17 for transportation of troops over bonded railroads. (A. G. O., 8.) The total expense, public or private, was probably but little short of $1,200,000, or nearly $40,000 per day, a significant commentary on the bad policy of breaking faith with Indians.

According to the report of the agency farmer sent out after the trouble to learn the extent of property of the friendly Indians destroyed by the hostiles on Pine Ridge agency, there were burned 53 Indian dwellings, 1 church, 2 schoolhouses, and a bridge, all on White Clay creek, while nearly every remaining house along the creek had the windows broken out. A great deal of farming machinery and nearly all of the hay were burned, while stoves were broken to pieces and stock killed. A few of the friendly Indians had been so overcome by the excitement that they had burned their own houses and run their machinery down high hills into the river, where it was found frozen in the ice several months later. (G. D., 48.)

In view of the fact that only one noncombatant was killed and no depredations were committed off the reservation, the panic among the frontier settlers of both Dakotas, Nebraska, and Iowa was something ludicrous. The inhabitants worked themselves into such a high panic that ranches and even whole villages were temporarily abandoned and the people flocked into the railroad cities with vivid stories of murder, scalping, and desolation that had no foundation whatever in fact. A reliable authority who was on the ground shortly after the scare had subsided gives this characteristic instance among others:

In another city, a place of 3,000 inhabitants, 75 miles from any Indians and 150 miles from any hostiles, word came about 2 o’clock Sunday morning for the militia to be in readiness. The company promptly assembled, were instructed and drilled. In an evening church service one of the pastors broke out in prayer: “O Lord, prepare us for what awaits us. We have just been listening to the sweet sounds of praise, but ere the morning sun we may hear the war whoop of the red man.” The effect on children and nervous persons may be imagined. The legislature was in session and the impression upon that body was such as to lead it to make an appropriation for the benefit of the state militia at the expense of one to the state agricultural fair. (Comr., 42.)

The crisis produced the usual crop of patriots, all ready to serve their country—usually for a consideration. Among these was a lady of Utica, New York, claiming to be of the renowned Iroquois blood, and styling herself the “Doctor Princess Viroqua,” who, with her sister “Wynima,” wrote to the Indian Office for a commission to go out to try the effect of moral suasion on the belligerent Sioux, representing that by virtue of her descent from a long line of aboriginal princes she would be welcomed with enthusiasm and accomplish her mission of peace. (G. D., 49.) As a matter of fact, neither of the names Viroqua or Wynima could be pronounced by a genuine Iroquois knowing only his own tongue, and the second one, Wynima, is borrowed from Meacham’s sensational history of the Modoc war in California.

The proprietor of a “wild west” show in New York, signing himself Texas Ben, wrote also volunteering his services and submitting as credentials his museum letter-head, stating that he had served with Quantrell, and had the written indorsement of Cole Younger. An old veteran of the Iowa soldiers’ home wrote to Secretary Noble, with a redundance of capitals and much bad spelling, offering his help against the hostiles, saying that he had been “RAZeD” among them and could “ToLK The TUN” and was ready to “Do eneThin FoR mY CuntRY.” (G. D., 50.)

A band of patriots in Minnesota, whose early education appears to have been somewhat neglected, wrote to the Secretary of the Interior offering to organize a company of 50 men to put down the outbreak, provided the government would look after a few items which they enumerated: “The government to Furnish us with Two good Horses Each a good Winchester Rifle, Two good Cotes Revolvers and give us $300.00 Bounty and say a Salary of Fifty Per Month, Each and our own judgment and we will settel this Indian question For Ever, and Rations and Ammunition. We Should Have in addition to this say Five dollars a Head.” (G. D., 51.)

A man named Albert Hopkins appeared at Pine Ridge in December, 1890, wearing a blanket and claiming to be the Indian messiah, and announced his intention of going alone into the Bad Lands to the Indians, who were expecting his arrival, with the “Pansy Banner of Peace.” His claims were ridiculed by Red Cloud and others, and he was promptly arrested and put off the reservation. However, he was not dead, but only sleeping, and on March, 1893, having come to Washington, he addressed an urgent letter to Secretary Noble requesting official authority to visit the Sioux reservations and to preach to the Indians, stating that “with the help of the Pansy and its motto and manifest teaching, ‘Union, Culture, and Peace,’ and the star-pansy banner, of which I inclose an illustration, I hope to establish the permanent peace of the border.” He signs himself “Albert C. Hopkins, Pres. Pro. tem. The Pansy Society of America.”

The letter was referred to the Indian Office, which refused permission. This brought a reply from Hopkins, who this time signs himself “The Indian Messiah,” in which he states that as the Indians were expecting the messiah in the spring, “in accordance with the prophecy of Sitting Bull,” it was necessary that he should go to them at once, so that they might “accept the teaching of the pansy and its motto, which now they only partially or very doubtfully accept.”

Receiving no answer, he wrote again about the end of March, both to the Secretary and to the Indian Commissioner, stating that messiahs, being human, were subject to human limitations, of which fact the Indians were well aware, but warning these officials that if these limitations were set by the government it would be held responsible for his nonappearance to the Indians, as he had promised, “before the native pansies blossom on the prairies.” He ends by stating that he would leave on Easter Sunday for the Sioux country, but as nothing was heard of him later, it is presumed that he succumbed to the limitations. (G. D., 52.)

* * * * *

The first direct knowledge of the messiah and the Ghost dance came to the northern Arapaho in Wyoming, through Nakash, “Sage,” who, with several Shoshoni, visited the messiah in the early spring of 1889, and on his return brought back to his people the first songs of the dance, these being probably some of the original Paiute songs of the messiah himself. The Ghost dance was at once inaugurated among the Shoshoni and northern Arapaho. In the summer of the same year the first rumors of the new redeemer reached the southern Arapaho and Cheyenne in Oklahoma, through the medium of letters written by returned pupils of eastern government schools.

Fresh reports of wonderful things beyond the mountains were constantly coming to the northern prairie tribes, and the excitement grew until the close of the year 1889, when a large delegation, including Sioux, northern Cheyenne, and northern Arapaho, crossed the mountains to the Paiute country to see and talk with the messiah. Among the Sioux delegates were Short Bull, Fire Thunder, and Kicking Bear, as already stated. Among the Cheyenne were Porcupine and several others, including one woman. The Arapaho representatives were Sitting Bull (Hänä′chä-thi′ăk) and Friday. The delegates from the different tribes met at Wind River reservation, in Wyoming, which they left about Christmas, and after stopping a short time among the Bannock and Shoshoni at Fort Hall, went on to Walker lake, in Nevada. They were gone some time and returned to Wyoming in March of 1890, the Sioux and Cheyenne continuing on to their homes farther east. According to the statement of Nakash they had a five days’ conference with the messiah, who at one time went into a trance, but his visitors did not.

Before their return the southern Arapaho, in Oklahoma, had sent up Wa′tän-ga′a, “Black Coyote,” an officer of the Indian police, and Washee, a scout at Fort Reno, to their relatives in Wyoming to learn definitely as to the truth or falsity of the rumors. Washee went on to Fort Hall, where his faith failed him, and he came back with the report that the messiah was only a half-blood. This was not correct, but Washee himself afterward acknowledged that he had based his report on hearsay. Black Coyote remained until the other delegates returned from the Paiute country with the announcement that all that had been said of the messiah and the advent of a new earth was true. He listened eagerly to all they had to tell, took part with the rest in the dance, learned the songs, and returned in April, 1890, and inaugurated the first Ghost dance in the south among the Arapaho.

The Cheyenne, being skeptical by nature, were unwilling to trust entirely to the report of Black Coyote and so sent up two delegates of their own, Little Chief and Bark, to investigate the story in the north. Somewhat later White Shield, another Cheyenne, went up alone on the same errand. Their report being favorable, the Cheyenne also took up the Ghost dance in the summer of 1890. They never went into it with the same fervor, however, and although they had their separate dance with songs in their own language, they more commonly danced together with the Arapaho and sang with them the Arapaho songs. For several years the old Indian dances had been nearly obsolete with these tribes, but as the new religion meant a revival of the Indian idea they soon became common again, with the exception of the war dance and others of that kind which were strictly prohibited by the messiah.

From this time the Ghost dance grew in fervor and frequency among the Arapaho and Cheyenne. In almost every camp the dance would be held two or three times a week, beginning about sunset and often continuing until daylight. The excitement reached fever heat in September, 1890, when Sitting Bull came down from the northern Arapaho to instruct the southern tribes in the doctrine and ceremony.

At a great Ghost dance held on South Canadian river, about 2 miles below the agency at Darlington, Oklahoma, it was estimated that 3,000 Indians were present, including nearly all of the Arapaho and Cheyenne, with a number of Caddo, Wichita, Kiowa, and others. The first trances of the Ghost dance among the southern tribes occurred at this time through the medium of Sitting Bull. One informant states that a leader named Howling Bull had produced trances at a dance on the Washita some time before, but the statement lacks confirmation.

As Sitting Bull was the great apostle of the Ghost dance among the southern tribes, being regarded almost in the same light as the messiah himself, he merits special notice. He is now about 42 years of age and at the beginning of his apostleship in 1890 was but 36. He is a full-blood Arapaho, although rather light in complexion and color of eyes, and speaks only his native language, but converses with ease in the universal sign language of the plains. It was chiefly by means of this sign language that he instructed his disciples among the Caddo, Wichita, and Kiowa. He is about 5 feet 8 inches tall, dignified but plain in his bearing, and with a particularly winning smile. His power over those with whom he comes in contact is evident from the report of Lieutenant (now Captain) Scott, who had been ordered by the War Department to investigate the Ghost dance, and who for weeks had been denouncing him as a humbug, but who, on finally meeting him for the first time, declares that the opinion formed before seeing him began to change in his favor almost immediately. (G. D., 53.) In conversation with the author Sitting Bull stated that he was originally a southern Arapaho, but went up to live with the northern branch of the tribe, in Wyoming, about 1876. When a boy in the south he was known as Bítäye, “Captor,” but on reaching manhood his name was changed, in conformity with a common Indian custom, to Hänä′chä-thi′ăk, “Sitting Bull.” On returning to the south, after having visited the messiah, he found his brother known under the same name, and to avoid confusion the brother then adopted the name of Scabby Bull, by which he is now known. It should be mentioned that an Indian “brother” may be only a cousin, as no distinction is made in the Indian system. On removing to the south he fixed his abode near Cantonment, Oklahoma, where he now resides.

With regard to the reverence in which he was held by his disciples at this time, and of his own sincerity, Captain Scott says:

It was very difficult to get an opportunity to talk with him quietly on account of the persistent manner in which he was followed about. All sorts of people wanted to touch him, men and women would come in, rub their hands on him, and cry, which demonstration he received with a patient fortitude that was rather ludicrous at times. While he by no means told us everything he knew, it was easy to believe that he was not the rank impostor that I had before considered him. He makes no demands for presents while at these camps. This trip entailed a ride of 200 miles in the winter season, at the request of the Wichitas, for which I understand they paid him $50 before starting, but everything that was given him while at this camp was a voluntary gift, prompted entirely by the good wishes of the giver. He took but little property away when he left, and I saw but one horse that I thought he had not brought down with him.

Upon being asked concerning his religion, he said that all I had heard must not be attributed to him, as some of it was false; that he does not believe that he saw the veritable “Jesus” alive in the north, but he did see a man there whom “Jesus” had helped or inspired. This person told him that if he persevered in the dance it would cause sickness and death to disappear. He avoided some of the questions about the coming of the buffalo, etc., and under the circumstances it was not possible to draw him out further, and the subject of religion was then dropped, with the intention of taking it up at a more favorable time, but this time never came. A great many of the doings seen at these dances are the afterthoughts of all kinds of people. I have seen some of them arise and have watched their growth. These are not the teachings of Sitting Bull, although he refrains from interfering with them through policy. He took no part in the humbuggery going on, but danced and sang like the humblest individual there. These things, taken in connection with Äpiatañ’s letter, would make it seem that Sitting Bull has been a dupe himself partly, and there is a possibility that he is largely sincere in his teachings. There is this to be said in his favor, that he has given these people a better religion than they ever had before, taught them precepts which if faithfully carried out will bring them into better accord with their white neighbors, and has prepared the way for their final Christianization. For this he is entitled to no little credit. (G. D., 54.)

He made no claim to be a regular medicine-man, and so far as known never went into a trance himself. Since the failure of his predictions, especially with regard to the recovery of the ceded reservation, he has fallen from his high estate. Truth compels us also to state that, in spite of his apostolic character, he is about as uncertain in his movements as the average Indian.

After Sitting Bull, the principal leader of the Ghost dance among the southern Arapaho is Wa′tän-ga′a or Black Coyote, from whom the town of Watonga, in Canadian county, derives its name. Black Coyote is a man of considerable importance both in his tribe and in his own estimation, and aspires to be a leader in anything that concerns his people. With a natural predisposition to religions things, it is the dream of his life to be a great priest and medicine-man. At the same time he keeps a sharp lookout for his temporal affairs, and has managed to accumulate considerable property in wagons and livestock, including three wives. Although still a young man, being but little more than 40 years of age, he has had his share of the world’s honors, being not only a leader in the Ghost dance and other Indian ceremonies, tribal delegate to Washington, and captain of the Indian police, but also, in his new character of an American citizen, deputy sheriff of Canadian county. He is a good-natured fellow, and vain of his possessions and titles, but at the same time thoroughly loyal and reliable in the discharge of his duties, and always ready to execute his orders at whatever personal risk. His priestly ambition led him to make the journey to the north, in which he brought back the first songs of the Ghost dance, and thus became a leader, and a year later he headed a delegation from Oklahoma to the messiah of Walker lake. He has repeatedly asked me to get for him a permanent license from the government to enable him to visit the various reservations at will as a general evangel of Indian medicine and ceremony. Black Coyote in full uniform, with official badge, a Harrison medal, and an immense police overcoat, which he procured in Washington, and riding with his three wives in his own double-seated coach, is a spectacle magnificent and impressive. Black Coyote in breechcloth, paint, and feathers, leading the Ghost dance, or sitting flat on the ground and beating the earth with his hand in excess of religious fervor, is equally impressive. It was this combination of vanity of leadership and sense of duty as a government officer that made him my first and most willing informant on the Ghost dance, and enabled me through him to do so much with the Arapaho.

In his portrait (plate +CV+) a number of scars will be noticed on his chest and arms. The full number of these scars is seventy, arranged in various patterns of lines, circles, crosses, etc., with a long figure of the sacred pipe on one arm. According to his own statement they were made in obedience to a dream as a sacrifice to save the lives of his children. Several of his children had died in rapid succession, and in accordance with Indian custom he undertook a fast of four days as an expiation to the overruling spirit. During this time, while lying on his bed, he heard a voice, somewhat resembling the cry of an owl or the subdued bark of a dog. The voice told him that if he wished to save his other children he must cut out seventy pieces of skin and offer them to the sun. He at once cut out seven pieces, held them out to the sun and prayed, and then buried them. But the sun was not satisfied, and soon after he was warned in a vision that the full number of seventy must be sacrificed if he would save his children. He then did as directed, cutting out the pieces of skin in the various patterns indicated, offering each in turn to the sun with a prayer for the health of his family, and then burying them. Since then there has been no death in his family. In cutting out the larger pieces, some of which were several inches long and nearly half an inch wide, the skin was first lifted up with an awl and then sliced away with a knife. This had to be done by an assistant, and Black Coyote was particular to show me by signs, sitting very erect and bracing himself firmly, that he had not flinched during the process.

As has been stated, the first trances in the southern Ghost dance occurred at the great dance held near the Cheyenne and Arapaho agency under the auspices of Sitting Bull in September, 1890. On this occasion Cheyenne and Arapaho, Caddo, Wichita, Kiowa, and Apache to the number of perhaps 3,000 assembled, and remained together for about two weeks, dancing every night until daylight. This was the largest Ghost dance ever held in the south. After dances had been held for two or three nights Sitting Bull announced that at the next one he would perform a great wonder in the sight of all the people, after which they would be able to make songs for themselves. He said no more, but dismissed them to their tipis, wondering what this miracle could be. On the next night he appeared wearing a wide-brim hat with a single eagle feather, the same hat in which he is generally seen. Nearly all of the two tribes of Cheyenne and Arapaho were present, and probably 600 or 800 were in the dance circle at one time. Nothing unusual occurred for several hours until the dancers had gradually worked themselves up to a high state of excitement, when Sitting Bull stepped into the circle, and going up close in front of a young Arapaho woman, he began to make hypnotic passes before her face with the eagle feather. In a few seconds she became rigid and then fell to the ground unconscious. Sitting Bull then turned his attention to another and another, and the same thing happened to each in turn until nearly a hundred were stretched out on the ground at once. As usual in the trances some lay thus for a long time, and others recovered sooner, but none were disturbed, as Sitting Bull told the dancers that these were now beholding happy visions of the spirit world. When next they came together those who had been in the trance related their experiences in the other world, how they had met and talked with their departed friends and joined in their oldtime amusements. Many of them embodied their visions in songs, which were sung that night and afterward in the dance, and from that time the Ghost dance was naturalized in the south and developed rapidly along new lines. Each succeeding dance resulted in other visions and new songs, and from time to time other hypnotists arose, until almost every camp had its own.

About this time a commission arrived to treat with the Cheyenne and Arapaho for the sale of their reservation. The Indians were much divided in opinion, the great majority opposing any sale whatsoever, even of their claim in the Cherokee strip, which they believed was all that the agreement was intended to cover. While the debate was in progress Left Hand, chief of the Arapaho, went to Sitting Bull and asked his opinion on the matter. Sitting Bull advised him to sell for what they could get, as they had need of the money, and in a short time the messiah would come and restore the land to them. On this advice Left Hand signed the agreement, in the face of threats from those opposed to it, and his example was followed by nearly all of his tribe. This incident shows how thoroughly Sitting Bull and the other Arapaho believed in the new doctrine. In view of the misery that has come on these tribes from the sale of their reservation, it is sad to think that they could have so deceived themselves by false hopes of divine interposition. A large party of the Cheyenne refused to have anything to do with the sale or to countenance the transaction by accepting their share of the purchase money, even after the whites had taken possession of the lands.

The troubles in the Sioux country now began to attract public attention, and there was suggestion of military interference. The newspaper liar has reached an abnormal development in Oklahoma, and dispatches from Guthrie, El Reno, and Oklahoma City were filled with vivid accounts of war dances, scalping parties, and imminent outbreaks, mingled with frantic appeals for troops. A specimen dispatch stated that a thousand Kickapoo were dancing, whereas in fact the whole tribe numbers only 325, very few of whom were in any way concerned with the Ghost dance. Indian Commissioner Morgan was at this time (November, 1890) on a tour of inspection among the western tribes of Oklahoma, and satisfied himself that all such sensational reports were false, and that there was no danger to be apprehended from the dance. (G. D., 55.) At the same time the War Department commissioned Lieutenant (now Captain) H. L. Scott, of the Seventh cavalry, then and now stationed at Fort Sill, Oklahoma, to investigate the meaning of the excitement and the possibility of an outbreak. Captain Scott was eminently fitted for the work by his intimate acquaintance with the Indians and his perfect knowledge of the sign language. In the course of December, 1890, and January and February, 1891, he visited the various camps of the western tribes of the territory, attended a number of dances, and talked with the leaders. His reports on the Ghost dance are most valuable, and confirmed the War Department in its previous opinion that no danger was to be apprehended, and that the true policy was one of noninterference.

The dance constantly gathered strength among the Arapaho and Cheyenne, in spite of the failure of the first prediction, and spread rapidly to the neighboring tribes, Sitting Bull himself being the high priest and chief propagandist. The adverse report brought back by Ä′piatañ, the Kiowa, in the spring of 1891 had no effect outside of his own tribe. In the early part of that year the Arapaho and Cheyenne sent a delegation, including one woman, to visit the messiah in Nevada and bring back the latest news from heaven. They were gone a considerable time and returned with some of the sacred medicine paint given them by Wovoka, after having taken part with the Paiute in a Ghost dance under his leadership at the regular dance ground near Mason valley. Tall Bull, captain of the Cheyenne police, was one of this party, and Arnold Woolworth, a Carlisle student, acted as interpreter.

In August, 1891, another delegation went out, consisting of Black Coyote, Little Raven, Red Wolf, Grant Left Hand, and Casper Edson (Arapaho), and Black Sharp Nose and Standing Bull (Cheyenne). Grant Left Hand and Casper Edson, Carlisle students, acted as interpreters, wrote down the words of the messiah, and delivered his message to their people on their return. This message, as written down at the time by Casper Edson, is given in the preceding chapter on the doctrine of the Ghost dance. In accord with the messiah’s instructions the two tribes now changed their manner of dancing from frequent small dances at each camp at irregular intervals to larger dances participated in by several camps together at regular intervals of six weeks, each dance continuing for five consecutive days. The Caddo and Wichita also adopted the new rule in agreement with instructions brought back by a delegation sent out about the same time. The change was opposed by Sitting Bull and some others, but the delegates, having the authority of the messiah for the innovation, succeeded in carrying their point, and thereafter assumed a leadership on equal terms with Sitting Bull, who from that time lost much of his interest in the dance. They were gone about two weeks, and brought back with them a quantity of the sacred paint and a large number of magpie feathers, the kind commonly worn by the Paiute in the Ghost dance. This started a demand for magpie feathers, and the shrewd traders soon turned the fact to their own advantage by importing selected crow feathers, which they sold to the unsuspecting Indians for the genuine article at the rate of two feathers for a quarter. While in the land of the Paiute the delegates took part in the Ghost dance at Mason valley, and were thrown into a trance by Wovoka, as related in chapter +IX+.

The Ghost dance practically superseded all other dances among the Cheyenne and Arapaho, and constantly developed new features, notably the auxiliary “crow dance,” which was organized by Grant Left Hand. This was claimed as a dance seen in a trance vision of the spirit world, but is really only a modification of the “Omaha dance,” common to the northern prairie tribes. The opening of the reservation and the influx of the whites served to intensify the religious fervor of the Indians, who were now more than ever made to feel their dependent and helpless condition. It was impossible, however, that the intense mental strain could endure forever, and after the failure of the predictions on the appointed dates the wild excitement gradually cooled and crystallized into a fixed but tranquil expectation of ultimate happiness under the old conditions in another world.

In October, 1892, another delegation, consisting of Sitting Bull and his wife, with Washee and two other Arapaho, and Edward Guerrier, a half-blood Cheyenne, visited the messiah. They brought back a very discouraging report, which was in substance that the messiah was tired of so many visitors and wanted them to go home and tell their tribes to stop dancing. Although the Indians generally refused to accept the message as genuine, the effect was naturally depressing. A year later, in October, 1893, Black Coyote and several others dictated through me a letter to Wovoka, asking him to send them some of the sacred paint or anything else that would make them think of him, with “some good words to help us and our children,” and requesting to know whether he had been truthfully reported by the delegates of the preceding year. To one who knows these people their simple religious faith is too touching to be a subject of amusement.

* * * * *

The messiah doctrine never gained many converts among the Comanche, excepting those of the Penätĕ′ka division and a few others living on the Little Washita and other streams on the northern boundary of the reservation, adjoining the tribes most interested in the Ghost dance. These Comanche held a few Ghost dances and made a few songs, but the body of the tribe would have nothing to do with it. This lack of interest was due partly to the general skeptical temperament of the Comanche, evinced in their carelessness in regard to ceremonial forms, and partly to their tribal pride, which forbade their following after the strange gods of another people, as they considered their own mescal rite sufficient to all their needs. Quanah Parker, their head chief, a shrewd half-blood, opposed the new doctrine and prevented its spread among his tribe.

* * * * *

The Ghost dance was brought to the Pawnee, Ponca, Oto, Missouri, Kansa, Iowa, Osage, and other tribes in central Oklahoma by delegates from the Arapaho and Cheyenne in the west. The doctrine made slow progress for some time, but by February, 1892, the majority of the Pawnee were dancing in confident expectation of the speedy coming of the messiah and the buffalo. Of all these tribes the Pawnee took most interest in the new doctrine, becoming as much devoted to the Ghost dance as the Arapaho themselves. The leader among the Pawnee was Frank White, and among the Oto was Buffalo Black. The agent in charge took stringent measures against the dance, and had the Oto prophet arrested and confined in the Wichita jail, threatening at the same time to cut off supplies from the tribe. As the confederated Oto and Missouri number only 362 in all, they were easily brought into subjection, and the dance was abandoned. The same method was pursued with the Pawnee prophet and his people, but as they are stronger in number than the Oto, they were proportionately harder to deal with, but the final result was the same. (Comr., 43.) The Osage gave but little heed to the story, perhaps from the fact that, as they are the wealthiest tribe in the country, they feel no such urgent need of a redeemer as their less fortunate brethren. The Sauk, Fox, Kickapoo, and Potawatomi engaged in the dance only to a limited extent, for the reason that a number of the natives of these tribes, particularly the Potawatomi, are under Catholic influences, while most of the others adhere to the doctrine of Känakûk, the Potawatomi prophet mentioned in chapter +V+.

* * * * *

The Ghost dance doctrine was communicated directly to the Caddo, Wichita, Kichai, Delaware, and Kiowa by the Arapaho and Cheyenne, their neighbors on the north. We shall speak now of the tribes first mentioned, leaving the Kiowa until the last. The Caddo, Wichita, Kichai, and several remnants of cognate tribes, with a small band of the Delaware, numbering in all about a thousand Indians, occupy a reservation between the Washita and the South Canadian in western Oklahoma, having the Arapaho and Cheyenne on the north and west, the Kiowa on the south, and the whites of Oklahoma and the Chickasaw nation on the east. The Caddo are the leading tribe, numbering more than half of the whole body. They were the first of these to take up the dance, and have manifested the greatest interest in it from the time it was introduced among them.

A number of Caddo first attended the great Ghost dance held by the Cheyenne and Arapaho on the South Canadian in the fall of 1890 on the occasion when Sitting Bull came down from the north and inaugurated the trances. On returning to their homes they started the Ghost dance, which they kept up, singing the Arapaho songs as they had heard them on the Canadian, until Sitting Bull came down about December, 1890, to give them further instruction in the doctrine and to “give the feather” to the seven persons selected to lead the ceremony. From this time the Caddo had songs and trances of their own, the chief priest and hypnotist of the dance being Nĭshkû′ntŭ, “Moon Head,” or John Wilson. The Caddo and the Delaware usually danced together on Boggy Creek. The Wichita and the Kichai, who took the doctrine from the Caddo, usually danced together on Sugar creek about 15 miles from the agency at Anadarko, but manifested less interest in the matter until Sitting Bull came down about the beginning of February, 1891, and “gave the feather” to the leaders. From this time all these tribes went into the dance heart and soul, on some occasions dancing for days and nights together from the middle of the afternoon until the sun was well up in the morning. The usual custom was to continue until about midnight. Cold weather had no deterrent effect, and they kept up the dance in the snow, the trance subjects sometimes lying unconscious in the snow for half an hour at a time. At this time it was confidently expected that the great change would occur in the spring, and as the time drew near the excitement became most intense. The return of the Kiowa delegate, Ä′piatañ, in the middle of February, 1891, with a report adverse to the messiah, produced no effect on the Caddo and their confederates, who refused to put any faith in his statements, claiming that he had not seen the real messiah or else had been bribed by the whites to make a false report.

About the time that Black Coyote and the others went out to see the messiah in the fall of 1891 the Caddo and their confederates sent out a delegation for the same purpose. The delegates were Billy Wilson and Squirrel (Caddo), Nashtowi and Lawrie Tatum (Wichita), and Jack Harry (Delaware). Tatum was a schoolboy and acted as interpreter for the party. Like the Arapaho they came back impressed with reverence for the messiah, and at once changed the time and method of the dancing, in accordance with his instructions, to periodical dances at intervals of six weeks, continuing for five consecutive days, the dance on the last night being kept up until daylight, when all the participants went down to bathe in the stream and then dispersed to their homes. They were dancing in this fashion when last visited in the fall of 1893.

The principal leader of the Ghost dance among the Caddo is Nĭshkû′ntŭ, “Moon Head,” known to the whites as John Wilson. Although considered a Caddo, and speaking only that language, he is very much of a mixture, being half Delaware, one-fourth Caddo, and one-fourth French. One of his grandfathers was a Frenchman. As the Caddo lived originally in Louisiana, there is a considerable mixture of French blood among them, which manifests itself in his case in a fairly heavy beard. He is about 50 years of age, rather tall and well built, and wears his hair at full length flowing loosely over his shoulders. With a good head and strong, intelligent features, he presents the appearance of a natural leader. He is also prominent in the mescal rite, which has recently come to his tribe from the Kiowa and Comanche. He was one of the first Caddo to go into a trance, the occasion being the great Ghost dance held by the Arapaho and Cheyenne near Darlington agency, at which Sitting Bull presided, in the fall of 1890. On his return to consciousness he had wonderful things to tell of his experiences in the spirit world, composed a new song, and from that time became the high priest of the Caddo dance. Since then his trances have been frequent, both in and out of the Ghost dance, and in addition to his leadership in this connection he assumes the occult powers and authority of a great medicine-man, all the powers claimed by him being freely conceded by his people.

When Captain Scott was investigating the Ghost dance among the Caddo and other tribes of that section, at the period of greatest excitement, in the winter of 1890–91, he met Wilson, of whom he has this to say:

John Wilson, a Caddo man of much prominence, was especially affected, performing a series of gyrations that were most remarkable. At all hours of the day and night his cry could be heard all over camp, and when found he would be dancing in the ring, possibly upon one foot, with his eyes closed and the forefinger of his right hand pointed upward, or in some other ridiculous posture. Upon being asked his reasons for assuming these attitudes he replied that he could not help it; that it came over him just like cramps.

Somewhat later Captain Scott says:

John Wilson had progressed finely, and was now a full-fledged doctor, a healer of diseases, and a finder of stolen property through supernatural means. One day, while we were in his tent, a Wichita woman entered, led by the spirit. It was explained to us that she did not even know who lived there, but some force she could not account for brought her. Having stated her case to John, he went off into a fit of the jerks, in which his spirit went up and saw “his father” [i. e., God], who directed him how to cure this woman. When he came to, he explained the cure to her, and sent her away rejoicing. Soon afterwards a Keechei man came in, who was blind of one eye, and who desired to have the vision restored. John again consulted his father, who informed him that nothing could be done for that eye because that man held aloof from the dance.

While the author was visiting the Caddo on Sugar creek in the fall of 1893, John Wilson came down from his own camp to explain his part in the Ghost dance. He wore a wide-brim hat, with his hair flowing down to his shoulders, and on his breast, suspended from a cord about his neck, was a curious amulet consisting of the polished end of a buffalo horn, surrounded by a circlet of downy red feathers, within another circle of badger and owl claws. He explained that this was the source of his prophetic and clairvoyant inspiration. The buffalo horn was “God’s heart,” the red feathers contained his own heart, and the circle of claws represented the world. When he prayed for help, his heart communed with “God’s heart,” and he learned what he wished to know. He had much to say also of the moon. Sometimes in his trances he went to the moon and the moon taught him secrets. It must be remembered that sun, moon, stars, and almost every other thing in nature are considered by the Indians as endowed with life and spirit. He claimed an intimate acquaintance with the other world and asserted positively that he could tell me “just what heaven is like.” Another man who accompanied him had a yellow sun with green rays painted on his forehead, with an elaborate rayed crescent in green, red, and yellow on his chin, and wore a necklace from which depended a crucifix and a brass clock-wheel, the latter, as he stated, representing the sun.

On entering the room where I sat awaiting him, Nĭshkû′ntŭ approached and performed mystic passes in front of my face with his hands, after the manner of the hypnotist priests in the Ghost dance, blowing upon me the while, as he afterward explained to blow evil things away from me before beginning to talk on religious subjects. He was good enough to state also that he had prayed for light before coming, and had found that my heart was good. Laying one hand on my head, and grasping my own hand with the other, he prayed silently for some time with bowed head, and then lifting his hand from my head, he passed it over my face, down my shoulder and arm to the hand, which he grasped and pressed slightly, and then released the fingers with a graceful upward sweep, as in the minuet. The first part of this—the laying of the hands upon the head, afterward drawing them down along the face and chest or arms—is the regular Indian form of blessing, reverential gratitude, or prayerful entreaty, and is of frequent occurrence in connection with the Ghost dance, when the believers ask help of the priests or beg the prayers of the older people. The next day about twenty or more Caddo came by on their way to the agency, all dressed and painted for a dance that was to be held that night. They stopped awhile to see us, and on entering the room where we were the whole company, men, women, and children, went through the same ceremony, with each one of the inmates in turn, beginning with Wilson and myself, and ending with the members of the family. The ceremony occupied a considerable time, and was at once beautiful and impressive. Not a word was said by either party during the while, excepting as someone in excess of devotion would utter prayerful exclamations aloud like the undertone of a litany. Every face wore a look of reverent solemnity, from the old men and women down to little children of 6 and 8 years. Several of them, the women especially, trembled while praying, as under the excitement of the Ghost dance. The religious greeting being over, the women of the family, with those of the party, went out to prepare the dinner, while the rest remained to listen to the doctrinal discussion.

The Kiowa were predisposed to accept the doctrine of the Ghost dance. No tribe had made more desperate resistance to the encroachments of the whites upon their hunting grounds, and even after the failure of the last effort of the confederated tribes in 1874–75, the Kiowa were slow to accept the verdict of defeat. The result of this unsuccessful struggle was to put an end to the boundless freedom of the prairie, where they had roamed unquestioned from Dakota almost to central Mexico, and henceforth the tribes were confined within the narrow limits of reservations. Within five years the great southern buffalo herd was extinct and the Indians found themselves at once prisoners and paupers. The change was so swift and terrible in its effects that they could not believe it real and final. It seemed to them like a dream of sorrow, a supernatural cloud of darkness to punish their derelictions, but which could be lifted from them by prayer and sacrifice. Their old men told of years when the buffalo was scarce or had gone a long way off, but never since the beginning of the world of a time when there was no buffalo. The buffalo still lived beyond their horizon or in caves under the earth, and with its return would come back prosperity and freedom. Before we wonder at their faith we must remember that the disappearance of these millions of buffalo in the space of a few years has no parallel in the annals of natural history.

In 1881 a young Kiowa named Da′tekañ, “Keeps-his-name-always,” began to “make medicine” to bring back the buffalo. He set up a sacred tipi, in front of which he erected a pole with a buffalo skin at the top, and made for himself a priestly robe of red color, trimmed with rows of eagle feathers. Then standing in front of his tipi he called the people around him and told them that he had been commanded and empowered in a dream to bring back the buffalo, and if they observed strictly the prayers and ceremonies which he enjoined the great herds would once more cover the prairie. His hearers believed his words, promised strict obedience, and gave freely of their blankets and other property to reward his efforts in their behalf. Da′tekañ retired to his sacred tipi, where, in his feathered robe of office, he continued to prophesy and make buffalo medicine for a year, when he died without seeing the realization of his hopes. The excitement caused by his predictions came to the notice of the agent then in charge, who mentions it in his annual report, without understanding the cause. On a Kiowa calendar obtained by the author the event is recorded in a pictograph which represents the medicine-man in his tipi, with his scarlet robe over his shoulders and a buffalo beneath his feet (figure 84).

About six years later, in 1887, another prophet, named Pa′-iñgya, “In the Middle,” revived the prophecy, claiming to be heir to all the supernatural powers of his late predecessor. He amplified the doctrine by asserting, logically enough, that as the whites were responsible for the disappearance of the buffalo, the whites themselves would be destroyed by the gods when the time was at hand for the return of the buffalo. He preached also his own invulnerability and claimed the power to kill with a look those who might offend him, as far as his glance could reach. He fixed his headquarters on Elk creek, near the western limit of the reservation, where he inaugurated a regular series of ritual observances, under the management of ten chosen assistants. Finally he announced that the time was at hand when the whites would be removed and the buffalo would return. He ordered all the tribe to assemble on Elk creek, where after four days he would bring down fire from heaven which would destroy the agency, the schools, and the white race, with the Indian unbelievers all together. The faithful need not fear pursuit by the troops, for the soldiers who might follow would wither before his glance and their bullets would have no effect on the Indians. On the same Kiowa calendar this prediction is recorded in another pictograph intended to represent flying bullets. The whole Kiowa tribe caught the infection of his words. Every camp was abandoned, parents took their children from the schools, and all fled to the rendezvous on Elk creek. Here they waited patiently for their deliverance till the predicted day came and passed without event, when they returned with sadness to their camps and their government rations of white man’s beef. Pa′-iñgya still lives, but the halo of prophecy no longer surrounds him. To account for the disappointment he claimed that his people had violated some of the ordinances and thereby postponed the destined happiness. In this way their minds were kept dwelling on the subject, and when at last the rumor of a messiah came from the north he hailed it as the fulfillment of the prediction.

Early in the summer of 1890 the news of the advent of the messiah reached the Kiowa, and in June of that year they sent a delegation of about twenty men under the leadership of Pa′tadal, “Poor Buffalo,” to Cheyenne and Arapaho agency at Darlington to learn more about the matter. They brought back a favorable report and also a quantity of the sacred red paint procured originally from the country of the messiah. Soon after there was a great gathering of the Kiowa and Apache at the agency at Anadarko to receive a payment of “grass money” due from the cattlemen for the lease of pasturage on the reservation. On this occasion the Ghost dance was formally inaugurated among the Kiowa, Poor Buffalo assuming direction of the ceremony, and painting the principal participants with the sacred red paint with his own hands. The dance was carried back to their various camps and became a part of the tribal life.

About this time a Sioux chief, High Wolf, came down from the north to visit the Cheyenne, Arapaho, Kiowa, and other tribes in that section. He remained some time among them, and on his return to the north invited a young Kiowa named Ä′piatañ, “Wooden Lance,” whose grandmother had been a Sioux captive, to come up and visit his relatives at Pine Ridge. The invitation was accepted by Ä′piatañ, partly for the pleasure of seeing a new tribe and meeting his mother’s kindred, but chiefly for the purpose of investigating for himself and for the Kiowa the truth of the messiah story, Äpiatañ, who speaks but little English, and who was then about 30 years of age, had recently lost a child to whom he had been very much attached. He brooded over his loss until the new doctrine came with its promise of a reunion with departed friends and its possibility of seeing and talking with them in visions of the trance. Moved by parental affection, which is the ruling passion with an Indian, he determined on this long journey in search of the messiah, who was vaguely reported to be somewhere in the north, to learn from his own lips the wonderful story, and to see if it were possible to talk again with his child. He discussed the matter with the chiefs, who decided to send him as a delegate to find the messiah and learn the truth or falsity of the reports, in order that the Kiowa might be guided by the result on his return. A sufficient sum of money was raised for his expenses, and he left for the north in September, 1890. Almost the whole tribe had assembled at the agency to witness his departure, and each in turn of the principal men performed over him a ceremony of blessing, such as has already been described. His going and return are both recorded on the calendar previously mentioned.

In October, 1890, shortly after Ä′piatañ’s departure, Sitting Bull, the Arapaho prophet of the Ghost dance, came down from his tribe and gave new impetus to the excitement among the Kiowa. This event also is recorded on the same Kiowa calendar in a well-drawn picture representing a buffalo standing beside the figure of a man (figure 86). It is also indicated less definitely on another calendar obtained from the tribe. Sitting Bull confirmed, as by personal knowledge, all that had been told of the messiah, and predicted that the new earth would arrive in the following spring, 1891. The Kiowa assembled on the Washita, at the mouth of Rainy Mountain creek, and here, at the largest Ghost dance ever held by the tribe, Sitting Bull consecrated seven men and women as leaders of the dance and teachers of the doctrine by giving to each one a sacred feather to be worn in the dance as the badge of priesthood. Until the Ghost dance came to the prairie tribes their women had never before been raised to such dignity as to be allowed to wear feathers in their hair. After “giving the feather” to the leaders thus chosen, they were taught the songs and ritual of the dance. At first the songs were all in the Arapaho language, but after the trances, which now began to be frequent, the Kiowa composed songs of their own.

Among the dreamers and prophets who now came to the front was one who merits more than a passing notice. His original name was Bi′äñk̔i, “Eater,” but on account of his frequent visits to the spirit world he is now known as Äsa′tito′la, which maybe freely rendered “The Messenger.” For a long time he had been in the habit of going alone upon the mountain, there to fast and pray until visions came to him, when he would return and give to his people the message of inspiration. Frequently these vigils were undertaken at the request of friends of sick people to obtain spiritual knowledge of the proper remedies to be applied, or at the request of surviving relatives who wished to hear from their departed friends in the other world. He is now about 55 years of age, quiet and dignified in manner, with a thoughtful cast of countenance which accords well with his character as a priest and seer. His intellectual bent is further shown by the fact that he has invented a system of ideographic writing which is nearly as distinct from the ordinary Indian pictograph system as it is from our own alphabet. It is based on the sign language of the plains tribes, the primary effort being to convey the idea by a pictured representation of the gesture sign; but, as in the evolution of the alphabet, a part is frequently put for the whole, and numerous arbitrary or auxiliary characters are added, until the result is a well-developed germ of an alphabetic system. He has taught the system to his sons, and by this means was able to keep up a correspondence with them while they were attending Carlisle school. It is unintelligible to the rest of the tribe. I have specimens of this curious graphic method, obtained from the father and his sons, which maybe treated at length at some future time. In the picture of Äsa′tito′la (plate +CVI+), he holds in one hand a paper on which is depicted one of his visions, while in the other is the pointer with which he explains its meaning.

Plate +CVII+ herewith represents this vision. On this occasion, after reaching the spirit world he found himself on a vast prairie covered with herds of buffalo and ponies, represented respectively in the picture by short black and green lines at the top. He went on through the buffalo, the way being indicated by the dotted green lines, until he came to a large Kiowa camp, in which, according to their old custom, nearly every tipi had its distinctive style of painting or ornamentation to show to what family it belonged, all these families being still represented in the tribe. He went on to the point indicated by the first heavy blue mark, where he met four young women, whom he knew as having died years before, returning on horseback with their saddle-pouches filled with wild plums. After some conversation he asked them about two brothers, his relatives, who had died some time ago. He went in the direction pointed out by the young women and soon met the two young men coming into camp with a load of fresh buffalo meat hung at their saddles. Their names were Emanki′na, “Can’t-hold-it,” a policeman, and E′‛pea, “Afraid-of-him,” who had died while held as a prisoner of war in Florida about fifteen years before. It will be noted that they are represented in the picture as armed only with bows and arrows, in agreement with the Ghost-dance doctrine of a return to aboriginal things. After proceeding some distance he retraced his steps and met two curious beings, represented in the picture by green figures with crosses instead of heads. These told him to go on, and on doing so he came to an immense circle of Kiowa dancing the Ghost dance around a cedar tree, indicated by the black circle with a green figure resembling a tree in the center. He stood for a while near the tree, shown by another blue mark, when he saw a woman, whom he knew, leave the dance. He hurried after her until she reached her own tipi and went into it—shown by the blue mark beside the red tipi with red flags on the ends of the tipi poles—when he turned around and came back. She belonged to the family of the great chief Sett’aiñti, “White Bear,” as indicated by the red tipi with red flags, no other warrior in the tribe having such a tipi. On inquiring for his own relatives he was directed to the other side of the camp, where he met a man—represented by the heavy black mark—who told him his own people were inside of the next tipi. On entering he found the whole family, consisting of his father, two brothers, two sisters, and several children, feasting on fresh buffalo beef from a kettle hung over the fire. They welcomed him and offered him some of the meat, which for some reason he was afraid to taste. To convince him that it was good they held it up for him to smell, when he awoke and found himself lying alone upon the mountain.

* * * * *

Ä′piatañ went on first to Pine Ridge, where he was well received by the Sioux, who had much to say of the new messiah in the west. He was urged to stop and join them in the Ghost dance, but refused and hurried on to Fort Washakie, where he met the northern Arapaho and the Shoshoni, whom he called the “northern Comanches.” Here the new prophecy was the one topic of conversation, and after stopping only long enough to learn the proper route to the Paiute country, he went on over the Union Pacific railroad to Nevada. On arriving at the agency at Pyramid lake the Paiute furnished him a wagon and an Indian guide across the country to the home of Wovoka in the upper end of Mason valley. The next day he was admitted to his presence. The result was a complete disappointment. A single interview convinced him of the utter falsity of the pretensions of the messiah and the deceptive character of the hopes held out to the believers.

Saddened and disgusted, Ä′piatañ made no stay, but started at once on his return home. On his way back he stopped at Bannock agency at Fort Hall, Idaho, and from there sent a letter to his people, stating briefly that he had seen the messiah and that the messiah was a fraud. This was the first intimation the Kiowa had received from an Indian source that their hopes were not well grounded. The author was present when the letter was received at Anadarko and read to the assembled Indians by Ä′piatañ’s sister, an educated woman named Laura Dunmoi, formerly of Carlisle school. The result was a division of opinion. Some of the Indians, feeling that the ground had been taken from under them, at once gave up all hope and accepted the inevitable of despair. Others were disposed to doubt the genuineness of the letter, as it had come through the medium of a white man, and decided to withhold their decision until they could hear directly from the delegate himself. Ä′piatañ returned in the middle of February, 1891. The agent sent notice to the various camps on the reservation for the Indians to assemble at the agency to hear his report, and also sent a request to Cheyenne and Arapaho agency to have Sitting Bull come down at the same time so that the Indians might hear both sides of the story.

The council was held at the agency at Anadarko, Oklahoma, on February 19, 1891, the author being among those present on the occasion. It was a great gathering, representing every tribe on the reservation, there being also in attendance a number of Arapaho who had accompanied Sitting Bull from the other agency. Everything said was interpreted in turn into English, Kiowa, Comanche, Caddo, Wichita, and Arapaho. This was a slow process, and necessitated frequent repetition, so that the talk occupied all day. Ä′piatañ first made his report, which was interpreted into the various languages. Questions were asked by the agent, Mr Adams, and by leading Indians, and after the full details had been obtained in this manner Sitting Bull, the Arapaho, was called on to make his statement. The scene was dramatic in the highest degree. Although in a certain sense Sitting Bull himself was on trial, it meant more than that to the assembled tribe. Their power, prosperity, and happiness had gone down, their very race was withering away before the white man. The messiah doctrine promised a restoration of the old conditions through supernatural assistance. If this hope was without foundation, the Indian had no future and his day was forever past.

After some preliminaries Ä′piatañ arose and told his story. He had gone on as related until he arrived at the home of Wovoka in Mason valley. Here he was told that the messiah could not be seen until the next day. On being finally admitted to his presence he found him lying down, his face covered with a blanket, and singing to himself. When he had finished the song the messiah uncovered his face and asked Ä′piatañ, through an interpreter, what he wanted. As Ä′piatañ had approached with great reverence under the full belief that the messiah was omniscient, able to read his secret thoughts and to speak all languages, this question was a great surprise to him, and his faith at once began to waver. However, he told who he was and why he had come, and then asked that he be permitted to see some of his dead relatives, particularly his little child. Wovoka replied that this was impossible, and that there were no spirits there to be seen. With their mixture of Christian and aboriginal ideas many of the Indians had claimed that this messiah was the veritable Christ and bore upon his hands and feet the scars of the crucifixion. Not seeing these scars, Ä′piatañ expressed some doubt as to whether Wovoka was really the messiah he had come so far to see, to which Wovoka replied that he need go no farther for there was no other messiah, and went on to say that he had preached to Sitting Bull and the others and had given them a new dance, but that some of them, especially the Sioux, had twisted things and made trouble, and now Ä′piatañ had better go home and tell his people to quit the whole business. Discouraged and sick at heart Ä′piatañ went out from his presence, convinced that there was no longer a god in Israel.

After the story had been told and interpreted to each of the tribes, Sitting Bull was called on for his statement. He told how he had visited the messiah a year before and what the messiah had said to him. The two versions were widely different, and there can be little question that Wovoka made claims and prophecies, supported by hypnotic performances, from which he afterward receded when he found that the excitement had gone beyond his control and resulted in an Indian outbreak. Sitting Bull insisted on the truth of his own representations, and when accused by Ä′piatañ of deceiving the Indians in order to obtain their property he replied that he had never asked them for the ponies which they had given him, and that if they did not believe what he had told them they could come and take their ponies again. Ä′piatañ replied that that was not the Kiowa road; what had once been given was not taken back. Sitting Bull spoke in a low musical voice, and the soft Arapaho syllables contrasted pleasantly with the choking sounds of the Kiowa and the boisterous loudness of the Wichita. I could not help a feeling of pity for him when at the close of the council he drew his blanket around him and went out from the gathering to cross the river to the Caddo camp, attended only by his faithful Arapahos. For his services in reporting against the dance Ä′piatañ received a medal from President Harrison.

This was for some time the end of the Ghost dance among the Kiowa, for while some few of the tribes were disposed to doubt the honesty or correctness of the report, the majority accepted it as final, and from that time the dance became a mere amusement for children. The other tribes, however—the Caddo, Wichita, and their allies—refused to accept the report, claiming that Ä′piatañ had been hired by white men to lie to the Indians, and that he had never really seen the messiah, as he claimed. Even the Apache, although in close tribal connection with the Kiowa, continued to hold to the doctrine and the dance.

* * * * *

+Note.+—Since the above was written and while awaiting publication there has been a revival of the Ghost dance among the Kiowa, brought about chiefly through the efforts of Bi′äñk̔i, Pa′tadal, and others of its former priests. After several times dispersing the dancers and threatening them with severe penalties if they persisted, the agent was finally obliged to give permission, on the earnest request of a delegation of chiefs and head men of the tribe, with the result that in September, 1894, the Kiowa publicly revived the ceremony in a great dance on the Washita, which lasted four days and was attended by several thousand Indians from all the surrounding tribes.

EXPLANATION OF PLATE CIX.

The original of this picture was drawn in colored inks on buckskin by Yellow Nose, a Ute captive among the Cheyenne, in 1891. It was obtained from him by the author and is now deposited in the National Museum at Washington. Besides being a particularly fine specimen of Indian pictography, it gives an excellent idea of the ghost dance as it was at that time among the Cheyenne and Arapaho. The dancers are in full costume, with paint and feathers. The women of the two tribes are plainly distinguished by the arrangement of their hair, the Cheyenne women having the hair braided at the side, while the Arapaho women wear it hanging loosely. Two of the women carry children on their backs. One of the men carries the bä′qati wheel, another a shinny stick, and a woman holds out the sacred crow, while several wave handkerchiefs which aid in producing the hypnotic effect. In the center are several persons with arms outstretched and rigid, while at one side is seen the medicine-man hypnotizing a subject who stretches out toward him a blue handkerchief. The spotted object on the ground behind the medicine-man is a shawl which has fallen from the shoulders of the woman standing near.

+Chapter XV+

THE CEREMONY OF THE GHOST DANCE

In chapter +XI+ we have spoken of the Ghost dance as it existed among the Paiute, Shoshoni, Walapai, and Cohonino, west of the mountains. We shall now give a more detailed account of the ceremony and connected ritual among the prairie tribes.

AMONG THE NORTHERN CHEYENNE

According to Dr Grinnell the Ghost dance among the northern Cheyenne had several features not found in the south. Four fires were built outside of the dance circle and about 20 yards back from it, toward each of the cardinal points. These fires were built of long poles set up on end, so as to form a rude cone, much as the poles of a tipi are erected. The fires were lighted at the bottom, and thus made high bonfires, which were kept up as long as the dance continued. (J. F. L., 5.)

AMONG THE SIOUX

Perhaps the most important feature in connection with the dance among the Sioux was the “ghost shirt,” already noticed and to be described more fully hereafter. On account of the scarcity of buckskin, these shirts were almost always made of white cloth cut and figured in the Indian fashion. The Sioux wore no metal of any kind in the dance, differing in this respect from the southern tribes, who wore on such occasions all their finery of German silver ornaments. The Sioux also began the dance sometimes in the morning, as well as in the afternoon or evening. Another important feature not found among the southern tribes, excepting the Kiowa, was the tree planted in the center of the circle and decorated with feathers, stuffed animals, and strips of cloth.

At a Ghost dance at No Water’s camp, near Pine Ridge, as described by J. F. Asay, formerly a trader at the agency, the dancers first stood in line facing the sun, while the leader, standing facing them, made a prayer and waved over their heads the “ghost stick,” a staff about 6 feet long, trimmed with red cloth and feathers of the same color. After thus waving the stick over them, he faced the sun and made another prayer, after which the line closed up to form a circle around the tree and the dance began. During the prayer a woman standing near the tree held out a pipe toward the sun, while another beside her held out several (four?) arrows from which the points had been removed. On another occasion, at a Ghost dance at the same camp, four arrows, headed with bone in the olden fashion, were shot up into the air from the center of the circle and afterward gathered up and hung upon the tree, together with the bow, a gaming wheel and sticks, and a staff of peculiar shape (ghost stick?). See plate +CXI+. The ceremonies of fasting, painting, and the sweat-bath in connection with the Ghost dance among the Sioux have been already described.

The best account of the dance itself and of the ghost shirt is given by Mrs Z. A. Parker, at that time a teacher on the Pine Ridge reservation, writing of a Ghost dance observed by her on White Clay creek, on June 20, 1890. We quote at length from her description:

We drove to this spot about 10.30 oclock on a delightful October day. We came upon tents scattered here and there in low, sheltered places long before reaching the dance ground. Presently we saw over three hundred tents placed in a circle, with a large pine tree in the center, which was covered with strips of cloth of various colors, eagle feathers, stuffed birds, claws, and horns—all offerings to the Great Spirit. The ceremonies had just begun. In the center, around the tree, were gathered their medicine-men; also those who had been so fortunate as to have had visions and in them had seen and talked with friends who had died. A company of fifteen had started a chant and were marching abreast, others coming in behind as they marched. After marching around the circle of tents they turned to the center, where many had gathered and were seated on the ground.

I think they wore the ghost shirt or ghost dress for the first time that day. I noticed that these were all new and were worn by about seventy men and forty women. The wife of a man called Return-from-scout had seen in a vision that her friends all wore a similar robe, and on reviving from her trance she called the women together and they made a great number of the sacred garments. They were of white cotton cloth. The women’s dress was cut like their ordinary dress, a loose robe with wide, flowing sleeves, painted blue in the neck, in the shape of a three-cornered handkerchief, with moon, stars, birds, etc, interspersed with real feathers, painted on the waist and sleeves. While dancing they wound their shawls about their waists, letting them fall to within 3 inches of the ground, the fringe at the bottom. In the hair, near the crown, a feather was tied. I noticed an absence of any manner of bead ornaments, and, as I knew their vanity and fondness for them, wondered why it was. Upon making inquiries I found they discarded everything they could which was made by white men.

The ghost shirt for the men was made of the same material—shirts and leggings painted in red. Some of the leggings were painted in stripes running up and down, others running around. The shirt was painted blue around the neck, and the whole garment was fantastically sprinkled with figures of birds, bows and arrows, sun, moon, and stars, and everything they saw in nature. Down the outside of the sleeve were rows of feathers tied by the quill ends and left to fly in the breeze, and also a row around the neck and up and down the outside of the leggings. I noticed that a number had stuffed birds, squirrel heads, etc, tied in their long hair. The faces of all were painted red with a black half-moon on the forehead or on one cheek.

As the crowd gathered about the tree the high priest, or master of ceremonies, began his address, giving them directions as to the chant and other matters. After he had spoken for about fifteen minutes they arose and formed in a circle. As nearly as I could count, there were between three and four hundred persons. One stood directly behind another, each with his hands on his neighbor’s shoulders. After walking about a few times, chanting, “Father, I come,” they stopped marching, but remained in the circle, and set up the most fearful, heart-piercing wails I ever heard—crying, moaning, groaning, and shrieking out their grief, and naming over their departed friends and relatives, at the same time taking up handfuls of dust at their feet, washing their hands in it, and throwing it over their heads. Finally, they raised their eyes to heaven, their hands clasped high above their heads, and stood straight and perfectly still, invoking the power of the Great Spirit to allow them to see and talk with their people who had died. This ceremony lasted about fifteen minutes, when they all sat down where they were and listened to another address, which I did not understand, but which I afterwards learned were words of encouragement and assurance of the coming messiah.

When they arose again, they enlarged the circle by facing toward the center, taking hold of hands, and moving around in the manner of school children in their play of “needle’s eye.” And now the most intense excitement began. They would go as fast as they could, their hands moving from side to side, their bodies swaying, their arms, with hands gripped tightly in their neighbors’, swinging back and forth with all their might. If one, more weak and frail, came near falling, he would be jerked up and into position until tired nature gave way. The ground had been worked and worn by many feet, until the fine, flour-like dust lay light and loose to the depth of two or three inches. The wind, which had increased, would sometimes take it up, enveloping the dancers and hiding them from view. In the ring were men, women, and children; the strong and the robust, the weak consumptive, and those near to death’s door. They believed those who were sick would be cured by joining in the dance and losing consciousness. From the beginning they chanted, to a monotonous tune, the words—

Father, I come; Mother, I come; Brother, I come; Father, give us back our arrows.

All of which they would repeat over and over again until first one and then another would break from the ring and stagger away and fall down. One woman fell a few feet from me. She came toward us, her hair flying over her face, which was purple, looking as if the blood would burst through; her hands and arms moving wildly; every breath a pant and a groan; and she fell on her back, and went down like a log. I stepped up to her as she lay there motionless, but with every muscle twitching and quivering. She seemed to be perfectly unconscious. Some of the men and a few of the women would run, stepping high and pawing the air in a frightful manner. Some told me afterwards that they had a sensation as if the ground were rising toward them and would strike them in the face. Others would drop where they stood. One woman fell directly into the ring, and her husband stepped out and stood over her to prevent them from trampling upon her. No one ever disturbed those who fell or took any notice of them except to keep the crowd away.

They kept up dancing until fully 100 persons were lying unconscious. Then they stopped and seated themselves in a circle, and as each one recovered from his trance he was brought to the center of the ring to relate his experience. Each told his story to the medicine-man and he shouted it to the crowd. Not one in ten claimed that he saw anything. I asked one Indian—a tall, strong fellow, straight as an arrow—what his experience was. He said he saw an eagle coming toward him. It flew round and round, drawing nearer and nearer until he put out his hand to take it, when it was gone. I asked him what he thought of it. “Big lie,” he replied. I found by talking to them that not one in twenty believed it. After resting for a time they would go through the same performance, perhaps three times a day. They practiced fasting, and every morning those who joined in the dance were obliged to immerse themselves in the creek. (Comr., 44.)

SONG REHEARSALS

As with church choirs, the leaders, both men and women, frequently assembled privately in a tipi to rehearse the new or old songs for the next dance. During the first winter spent among the Arapaho I had frequent opportunity of being present at these rehearsals, as for a long time the snow was too deep to permit dancing outside. After having obtained their confidence the Arapaho police invited me to come up to their camp at night to hear them practice the songs in anticipation of better weather for dancing. Thenceforth rehearsals were held in Black Coyote’s tipi almost every night until the snow melted, each session usually lasting about three hours.

On these occasions from eight to twelve persons were present, sitting in a circle on the low beds around the fire in the center. Black Coyote acted as master of ceremonies and opened proceedings by filling and lighting the redstone pipe, offering the first whiff to the sun, then reversing the stem in offering to the earth, next presenting the pipe to the fire, and then to each of the four cardinal points. He then took a few puffs himself, after which he passed the pipe to his next neighbor, who went through the same preliminaries before smoking, and thus the pipe went round the circle, each one taking only a few puffs before passing it on. The pipe was then put back into its pouch, and Black Coyote, standing with his face toward the northwest, the messiah’s country, with eyes closed and arms outstretched, made a fervent prayer for help and prosperity to his tribe, closing with an earnest petition to the messiah to hasten his coming. The others listened in silence with bowed heads. The prayer ended, they consulted as to the song to be sung first, which Black Coyote then started in a clear musical bass, the others joining. From time to time explanations were made where the meaning of the song was not clear. They invited me to call for whatever songs I wished to hear, and these songs were repeated over and over again to give me an opportunity to write them down, but they waived extended discussion until another time. Usually the men alone were the singers, but sometimes Black Coyote’s wives or other women who were present joined in the songs. It was noticeable that even in these rehearsals the women easily fell under the excitement of the dance. Finally, about 10 oclock, all rose together and sang the closing song, Ni′ninitubi′na Huhu, “The Crow has given the signal,” and the rehearsal was at an end. On one occasion, before I had obtained this song, I called for it in order that I might write it down, but they explained that we must wait awhile, as it was the closing song, and if they sung it then they must quit for the night.

PREPARATIONS FOR THE DANCE

On several occasions the dance ground was consecrated before the performance, one of the leaders going all about the place, sprinkling some kind of sacred powder over the ground and praying the while.

Frequently in the dance one or more of the leaders while sitting within the circle would beat upon the earth with his extended palm, then lay his hand upon his head, afterward blow into his hand, and then repeat the operation, praying all the time. Sometimes the hypnotist would beat the ground in the same way and then lay his hand on the head of the subject (plate +CXV+). No satisfactory explanation of this ceremony was obtained beyond the general idea that the earth, like the sun, the fire, and the water, is sacred.

GIVING THE FEATHER

The ceremony of “giving the feather” has been already noticed. This was an official ordination of the priests in the dance, conferred on them by the apostle who first brought the ceremony to the tribe. Among the Arapaho, Caddo, Kiowa, and adjoining tribes in the south the feather was conferred by Sitting Bull himself. The feather was thus given to seven leaders, or sometimes to fourteen, that is, seven men and seven women, the number seven being sacred with most tribes and more particularly in the Ghost dance. The feather, which was worn upon the head of the dancers, was either that of the crow, the sacred bird of the Ghost dance, or of the eagle, sacred in all Indian religions. If from the crow, two feathers were used, being attached at a slight angle to a small stick which was thrust into the hair. (See Arapaho song 8.) The feathers were previously consecrated by the priest with prayer and ceremony. The chosen ones usually reciprocated with presents of ponies, blankets, or other property. After having thus received the feather the tribe began to make songs of its own, having previously used those taught them by the apostle from his own language.

Besides the seven leaders who wear the sacred crow feathers as emblems of their leadership, nearly all the dancers wear feathers variously painted and ornamented, and the preparation of these is a matter of much concern. The dancer who desires instruction on this point usually takes with him six friends, so as to make up the sacred number of seven, and goes with them to one who has been in a trance and has thus learned the exact method in vogue in the spirit world. At their request this man prepares for each one a feather, according to what he has seen in some trance vision, for which they return thanks, usually with a small present. The feathers are painted in several colors, each larger feather usually being tipped with a small down feather painted in a different color. On certain occasions a special day is set apart for publicly painting and preparing the feathers for all the dancers, the work being done by the appointed leaders of the ceremony.

THE PAINTING OF THE DANCERS

The painting of the dancers is done with the same ceremonial exactness of detail, each design being an inspiration from a trance vision. Usually the dancer adopts the particular style of painting which, while in the trance, he has seen worn by some departed relative. If he has not yet been in a trance, the design is suggested by a vision of one who does the painting. In making the request the dancer lays his hands upon the head of the leader and says, “My father, I have come to be painted, so that I may see my friends; have pity on me and paint me,” the sacred paint being held to sharpen the spiritual vision as well as to be conducive to physical health. The painting consists of elaborate designs in red, yellow, green, and blue upon the face, with a red or yellow line along the parting of the hair. Suns, crescents, stars, crosses, and birds (crows) are the designs in most common use.

THE CEREMONY

The dance commonly begins about the middle of the afternoon or later, after sundown. When it begins in the afternoon, there is always an intermission of an hour or two for supper. The announcement is made by the criers, old men who assume this office apparently by tacit understanding, who go about the camp shouting in a loud voice to the people to prepare for the dance. The preliminary painting and dressing is usually a work of about two hours. When all is ready, the leaders walk out to the dance place, and facing inward, join hands so as to form a small circle. Then, without moving from their places they sing the opening song, according to previous agreement, in a soft undertone. Having sung it through once they raise their voices to their full strength and repeat it, this time slowly circling around in the dance. The step is different from that of most other Indian dances, but very simple, the dancers moving from right to left, following the course of the sun, advancing the left foot and following it with the right, hardly lifting the feet from the ground. For this reason it is called by the Shoshoni the “dragging dance.” All the songs are adapted to the simple measure of the dance step. As the song rises and swells the people come singly and in groups from the several tipis, and one after another joins the circle until any number from fifty to five hundred men, women, and children are in the dance. When the circle is small, each song is repeated through a number of circuits. If large, it is repeated only through one circuit, measured by the return of the leaders to the starting point. Each song is started in the same manner, first in an undertone while the singers stand still in their places, and then with full voice as they begin to circle around. At intervals between the songs, more especially after the trances have begun, the dancers unclasp hands and sit down to smoke or talk for a few minutes. At such times the leaders sometimes deliver short addresses or sermons, or relate the recent trance experience of the dancer. In holding each other’s hands the dancers usually intertwine the fingers instead of grasping the hand as with us. Only an Indian could keep the blanket in place as they do under such circumstances. Old people hobbling along with sticks, and little children hardly past the toddling period sometimes form a part of the circle, the more vigorous dancers accommodating the movement to their weakness. Frequently a woman will be seen to join the circle with an infant upon her back and dance with the others, but should she show the least sign of approaching excitement watchful friends lead her away that no harm may come to the child. Dogs are driven off from the neighborhood of the circle lest they should run against any of those who have fallen into a trance and thus awaken them. The dancers themselves are careful not to disturb the trance subjects while their souls are in the spirit world. Full Indian dress is worn, with buckskin, paint, and feathers, but among the Sioux the women discarded the belts ornamented with disks of German silver, because the metal had come from the white man. Among the southern tribes, on the contrary, hats were sometimes worn in the dance, although this was not considered in strict accordance with the doctrine.

No drum, rattle, or other musical instrument is used in the dance, excepting sometimes by an individual dancer in imitation of a trance vision. In this respect particularly the Ghost dance differs from every other Indian dance. Neither are any fires built within the circle, so far as known, with any tribe excepting the Walapai. The northern Cheyenne, however, built four fires in a peculiar fashion outside of the circle, as already described. With most tribes the dance was performed around a tree or pole planted in the center and variously decorated. In the southern plains, however, only the Kiowa seem ever to have followed this method, they sometimes dancing around a cedar tree. On breaking the circle at the end of the dance the performers shook their blankets or shawls in the air, with the idea of driving away all evil influences. On later instructions from the messiah all then went down to bathe in the stream, the men in one place and the women in another, before going to their tipis. The idea of washing away evil things, spiritual as well as earthly, by bathing in running water is too natural and universal to need comment.

The peculiar ceremonies of prayer and invocation, with the laying on of hands and the stroking of the face and body, have several times been described and need only be mentioned here. As trance visions became frequent the subjects strove to imitate what they had seen in the spirit world, especially where they had taken part with their departed friends in some of the old-time games. In this way gaming wheels, shinny sticks, hummers, and other toys or implements would be made and carried in future dances, accompanied with appropriate songs, until the dance sometimes took on the appearance of an exhibition of Indian curios on a small scale.

THE CROW DANCE

Within the last few years the southern Arapaho and Cheyenne have developed an auxiliary dance called the “crow dance,” which is performed in the afternoon as a preliminary to the regular Ghost dance at night. As it is no part of the original Ghost dance and is confined to these two tribes, it deserves no extended notice in this connection. Although claimed by its inventors as a direct inspiration from the other world, where they saw it performed by “crows,” or spirits of departed friends, it is really only a modification of the picturesque Omaha dance of the prairie tribes, with the addition of religious features borrowed from the new doctrine. The men participating are stripped to the breechcloth, with their whole bodies painted as in the Omaha dance, and wear elaborate pendants of varicolored feathers hanging down behind from the waist. An immense drum is an important feature. Men and women take part, and the songs refer to the general subject of the crow and the messiah, but are set to a variety of dance steps and evolutions performed by the dancers. As the leaders, who are chiefly young men, are constantly studying new features, the crow dance has become one of the most attractive ceremonies among the prairie tribes. Hypnotism and trances form an essential feature of this as of the Ghost dance proper. (See plate +CXIX+.)

THE HYPNOTIC PROCESS

The most important feature of the Ghost dance, and the secret of the trances, is hypnotism. It has been hastily assumed that hypnotic knowledge and ability belong only to an overripe civilization, such as that of India and ancient Egypt, or to the most modern period of scientific investigation. The fact is, however, that practical knowledge, if not understanding, of such things belongs to people who live near to nature, and many of the stories told by reliable travelers of the strange performances of savage shamans can be explained only on this theory. Numerous references in the works of the early Jesuit missionaries, of the Puritan writers of New England, and of English explorers farther to the south, would indicate that hypnotic ability no less than sleight-of-hand dexterity formed part of the medicine-man’s equipment from the Saint Lawrence to the Gulf. Enough has been said in the chapters on Smoholla and the Shakers to show that hypnotism exists among the tribes of the Columbia, and the author has had frequent opportunity to observe and study it in the Ghost dance on the plains. It can not be said that the Indian priests understand the phenomenon, for they ascribe it to a supernatural cause, but they know how to produce the effect, as I have witnessed hundreds of times. In treating of the subject in connection with the Ghost dance the author must be understood as speaking from the point of view of an observer and not as a psychologic expert.

Immediately on coming among the Arapaho and Cheyenne in 1890, I heard numerous stories of wonderful things that occurred in the Ghost dance—how people died, went to heaven and came back again, and how they talked with dead friends and brought back messages from the other world. Quite a number who had thus “died” were mentioned and their adventures in the spirit land were related with great particularity of detail, but as most of the testimony came from white men, none of whom had seen the dance for themselves, I preserved the scientific attitude of skepticism. So far as could be ascertained, none of the intelligent people of the agency had thought the subject sufficiently worthy of serious consideration to learn whether the reports were true or false. On talking with the Indians I found them unanimous in their statements as to the visions, until I began to think there might be something in it.

The first clue to the explanation came from the statement of his own experience in the trance, given by Paul Boynton, a particularly bright Carlisle student, who acted as my interpreter. His brother had died some time before, and as Paul was anxious to see and talk with him, which the new doctrine taught was possible, he attended the next Ghost dance, and putting his hands upon the head of Sitting Bull, according to the regular formula, asked him to help him see his dead brother. Paul is of an inquiring disposition, and, besides his natural longing to meet his brother again, was actuated, as he himself said, by a desire to try “every Indian trick.” He then told how Sitting Bull had hypnotized him with the eagle feather and the motion of his hands, until he fell unconscious and did really see his brother, but awoke just as he was about to speak to him, probably because one of the dancers had accidentally brushed against him as he lay on the ground. He embodied his experience in a song which was afterward sung in the dance. From his account it seemed almost certain that the secret was hypnotism. The explanation might have occurred to me sooner but for the fact that my previous Indian informants, after the manner of some other witnesses, had told only about their trance visions, forgetting to state how the visions were brought about.

This was in winter and the ground was covered deeply with snow, which stopped the dancing for several weeks. In the meantime I improved the opportunity by visiting the tipis every night to learn the songs and talk about the new religion. When the snow melted, the dances were renewed, and as by this time I had gained the confidence of the Indians I was invited to be present and thereafter on numerous occasions was able to watch the whole process by which the trances were produced. From the outside hardly anything can be seen of what goes on within the circle, but being a part of the circle myself I was able to see all that occurred inside, and by fixing attention on one subject at a time I was able to note all the stages of the phenomenon from the time the subject first attracted the notice of the medicine-man, through the staggering, the rigidity, the unconsciousness, and back again to wakefulness. On two occasions my partner in the dance, each time a woman, came under the influence and I was thus enabled to note the very first nervous tremor of her hand and mark it as it increased in violence until she broke away and staggered toward the medicine-man within the circle.

Young women are usually the first to be affected, then older women, and lastly men. Sometimes, however, a man proves as sensitive as the average woman. In particular I have seen one young Arapaho become rigid in the trance night after night. He was a Carlisle student, speaking good English and employed as clerk in a store. He afterward took part in the sun dance, dancing three days and nights without food, drink, or sleep. He is of a quiet, religious disposition, and if of white parentage would perhaps have become a minister, but being an Indian, the same tendency leads him into the Ghost dance and the sun dance. The fact that he could endure the terrible ordeal of the sun dance would go to show that his physical organization is not frail, as is frequently the case with hypnotic or trance subjects. So far as personal observation goes, the hypnotic subjects are usually as strong and healthy as the average of their tribe. It seems to be a question more of temperament than of bodily condition or physique. After having observed the Ghost dance among the southern tribes at intervals during a period of about four years, it is apparent that the hypnotic tendency is growing, although the original religious excitement is dying out. The trances are now more numerous among the same number of dancers. Some begin to tremble and stagger almost at the beginning of the dance, without any effort on the part of the medicine-man, while formerly it was usually late in the night before the trances began, although the medicine-men were constantly at work to produce such result. In many if not in most cases the medicine-men themselves have been in trances produced in the same fashion, and must thus be considered sensitives as well as those hypnotized by them.

Not every leader in the Ghost dance is able to bring about the hypnotic sleep, but anyone may try who feels so inspired. Excepting the seven chosen ones who start the songs there is no priesthood in the dance, the authority of such men as Sitting Bull and Black Coyote being due to the voluntary recognition of their superior ability or interest in the matter. Any man or woman who has been in a trance, and has thus derived inspiration from the other world, is at liberty to go within the circle and endeavor to bring others to the trance. Even when the result is unsatisfactory there is no interference with the performer, it being held that he is but the passive instrument of a higher power and therefore in no way responsible. A marked instance of this is the case of Cedar Tree, an Arapaho policeman, who took much interest in the dance, attending nearly every performance in his neighborhood, consecrating the ground and working within the circle to hypnotize the dancers. He was in an advanced stage of consumption, nervous and excitable to an extreme degree, and perhaps it was for this reason that those who came under his influence in the trance constantly complained that he led them on the “devil’s road” instead of the “straight road;” that he made them see monstrous and horrible shapes, but never the friends whom they wished to see. On this account they all dreaded to see him at work within the circle, but no one commanded him to desist as it was held that he was controlled by a stronger power and was to be pitied rather than blamed for his ill success. A similar idea exists in Europe in connection with persons reputed to possess the evil eye. Cedar Tree himself deplored the result of his efforts and expressed the hope that by earnest prayer he might finally be able to overcome the evil influence.

We shall now describe the hypnotic process as used by the operators, with the various stages of the trance. The hypnotist, usually a man, stands within the ring, holding in his hand an eagle feather or a scarf or handkerchief, white, black, or of any other color. Sometimes he holds the feather in one hand and the scarf in the other. As the dancers circle around singing the songs in time with the dance step the excitement increases until the more sensitive ones are visibly affected. In order to hasten the result certain songs are sung to quicker time, notably the Arapaho song beginning Nû′nanû′naatani′na Hu′hu. We shall assume that the subject is a woman. The first indication that she is becoming affected is a slight muscular tremor, distinctly felt by her two partners who hold her hands on either side. The medicine-man is on the watch, and as soon as he notices the woman’s condition he comes over and stands immediately in front of her, looking intently into her face and whirling the feather or the handkerchief, or both, rapidly in front of her eyes, moving slowly around with the dancers at the same time, but constantly facing the woman. All this time he keeps up a series of sharp exclamations, Hu! Hu! Hu! like the rapid breathing of an exhausted runner. From time to time he changes the motion of the feather or handkerchief from a whirling to a rapid up-and-down movement in front of her eyes. For a while the woman continues to move around with the circle of dancers, singing the song with the others, but usually before the circuit is completed she loses control of herself entirely, and, breaking away from the partners who have hold of her hands on either side, she staggers into the ring, while the circle at once closes up again behind her. She is now standing before the medicine-man, who gives his whole attention to her, whirling the feather swiftly in front of her eyes, waving his hands before her face as though fanning her, and drawing his hand slowly from the level of her eyes away to one side or upward into the air, while her gaze follows it with a fixed stare. All the time he keeps up the Hu! Hu! Hu! while the song and the dance go on around them without a pause. For a few minutes she continues to repeat the words of the song and keep time with the step, but in a staggering, drunken fashion. Then the words become unintelligible sounds, and her movements violently spasmodic, until at last she becomes rigid, with her eyes shut or fixed and staring, and stands thus uttering low pitiful moans (plate +CXVII+). If this is in the daytime, the operator tries to stand with his back to the sun, so that the full sunlight shines in the woman’s face (plate +CXVI+). The subject may retain this fixed, immovable posture for an indefinite time, but at last falls heavily to the ground, unconscious and motionless (plate +CXVIII+). The dance and the song never stop, but as soon as the woman falls the medicine-man gives his attention to another subject among the dancers. The first one may lie unconscious for ten or twenty minutes or sometimes for hours, but no one goes near to disturb her, as her soul is now communing with the spirit world. At last consciousness gradually returns. A violent tremor seizes her body as in the beginning of the fit. A low moan comes from her lips, and she sits up and looks about her like one awaking from sleep. Her whole form trembles violently, but at last she rises to her feet and staggers away from the dancers, who open the circle to let her pass. All the phenomena of recovery, except rigidity, occur in direct reverse of those which precede unconsciousness.

Sometimes before falling the hypnotized subject runs wildly around the circle or out over the prairie, or goes through various crazy evolutions like those of a lunatic. On one occasion—but only once—I have seen the medicine-man point his finger almost in the face of the hypnotized subject, and then withdrawing his finger describe with it a large circle about the tipis. The subject followed the direction indicated, sometimes being hidden from view by the crowd, and finally returned, with his eyes still fixed and staring, to the place where the medicine-man was standing. There is frequently a good deal of humbug mixed with these performances, some evidently pretending to be hypnotized in order to attract notice or to bring about such a condition from force of imitation, but the greater portion is unquestionably genuine and beyond the control of the subjects. In many instances the hypnotized person spins around for minutes at a time like a dervish, or whirls the arms with apparently impossible speed, or assumes and retains until the final fall most uncomfortable positions which it would be impossible to keep for any length of time under normal conditions. Frequently a number of persons are within the ring at once, in all the various stages of hypnotism. The proportion of women thus affected is about three times that of men.

THE AREA COVERED BY THE DANCE

It is impossible to give more than an approximate statement as to the area of the Ghost dance and the messiah doctrine and the number of Indians involved. According to the latest official report, there are about 146,000 Indians west of Missouri river, exclusive of the five civilized nations in Indian Territory. Probably all these tribes heard of the new doctrine, but only a part took any active interest in it. Generally speaking, it was never taken up by the great tribe of the Navaho, by any of the Pueblos except the Taos, or by any of the numerous tribes of the Columbia region. The thirty or thirty-five tribes more or less concerned with the dance have an aggregate population of about 60,000 souls. A number of these were practically unanimous in their acceptance of the new doctrine, notably the Paiute, Shoshoni, Arapaho, Cheyenne, Caddo, and Pawnee, while of others, as the Comanche, only a small minority ever engaged in it. Only about one-half of the 26,000 Sioux took an active part in it. It may safely be said, however, that the doctrine and ceremony of the Ghost dance found more adherents among our tribes than any similar Indian religious movement within the historic period, with the single possible exception of the crusade inaugurated by Tenskwatawa, the Shawano prophet, in 1805. (See plate +LXXXV+.)

PRESENT CONDITION OF THE DANCE

Among most of these tribes the movement is already extinct, having died a natural death, excepting in the case of the Sioux. The Shoshoni and some others lost faith in it after the failure of the first predictions. The Sioux probably discontinued the dance before the final surrender, as the battle of Wounded Knee and the subsequent events convinced even the most fanatic believers that their expectations of invulnerability and supernatural assistance were deceptive. The Paiute were yet dancing a year ago, and as their dream has received no such rude awakening as among the Sioux, they are probably still patiently awaiting the great deliverance, in spite of repeated postponements, although the frenzied earnestness of the early period has long ago abated. The Kiowa, who discarded the doctrine on the adverse report of Ä′piatañ, have recently taken up the dance again and are now dancing as religiously as ever under the leadership of the old men, although the progressive element in the tribe is strongly opposed to it. Among the other tribes in Oklahoma—especially the Arapaho, Cheyenne, Caddo, Wichita, Pawnee, and Oto—the Ghost dance has become a part of the tribal life and is still performed at frequent intervals, although the feverish expectation of a few years ago has now settled down into something closely approaching the Christian hope of a reunion with departed friends in a happier world at some time in the unknown future.

As for the great messiah himself, when last heard from Wovoka was on exhibition as an attraction at the Midwinter fair in San Francisco. By this time he has doubtless retired into his original obscurity.

+Chapter XVI+

PARALLELS IN OTHER SYSTEMS

I will pour out my spirit upon all flesh; and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, your old men shall dream dreams, your young men shall see visions.—Joel.

How is it then, brethren? When ye come together every one of you hath a doctrine, hath a revelation.—I Corinthians.

THE BIBLICAL PERIOD

The remote in time or distance is always strange. The familiar present is always natural and a matter of course. Beyond the narrow range of our horizon imagination creates a new world, but as we advance in any direction, or as we go back over forgotten paths, we find ever a continuity and a succession. The human race is one in thought and action. The systems of our highest modern civilizations have their counterparts among all the nations, and their chain of parallels stretches backward link by link until we find their origin and interpretation in the customs and rites of our own barbarian ancestors, or of our still existing aboriginal tribes. There is nothing new under the sun.

The Indian messiah religion is the inspiration of a dream. Its ritual is the dance, the ecstasy, and the trance. Its priests are hypnotics and cataleptics. All these have formed a part of every great religious development of which we have knowledge from the beginning of history.

In the ancestors of the Hebrews, as described in the Old Testament, we have a pastoral people, living in tents, acquainted with metal working, but without letters, agriculture, or permanent habitations. They had reached about the plane of our own Navaho, but were below that of the Pueblo. Their mythologic and religious system was closely parallel. Their chiefs were priests who assumed to govern by inspiration from God, communicated through frequent dreams and waking visions. Each of the patriarchs is the familiar confidant of God and his angels, going up to heaven in dreams and receiving direct instructions in waking visits, and regulating his family and his tribe, and ordering their religious ritual, in accord with these instructions. Jacob, alone in the desert, sleeps and dreams, and sees a ladder reaching to heaven, with angels going up and down upon it, and God himself, who tells him of the future greatness of the Jewish nation. So Wovoka, asleep on the mountain, goes up to the Indian heaven and is told by the Indian god of the coming restoration of his race. Abraham is “tempted” by God and commanded to sacrifice his son, and proceeds to carry out the supernatural injunction. So Black Coyote dreams and is commanded to sacrifice himself for the sake of his children.

Coming down to a later period we find the Chaldean Job declaring that God speaketh “in a dream, in a vision of the night, when deep sleep falleth upon men; then he openeth the ears of men and sealeth their instruction.” The whole of the prophecies are given as direct communications from the other world, with the greatest particularity of detail, as, for instance, in the beginning of the book of Ezekiel, where he says that “it came to pass in the thirtieth year, in the fourth month, in the fifth day of the month, as I was among the captives by the river of Chebar, that the heavens were opened and I saw visions of God.”

In the New Testament, representing the results of six centuries of development beyond the time of the prophets and in intimate contact with more advanced civilizations, we still have the dream as the controlling influence in religion. In the very beginning of the new dispensation we are told that, while Joseph slept, the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream, and as a result “Joseph being raised from sleep did as the angel of the Lord had bidden him.” The most important events in the history of the infant redeemer are regulated, not in accordance with the ordinary manner of probabilities, but by dreams.

The four gospels are full of inspirational dreams and trances, such as the vision of Cornelius, and that of Peter, when he went up alone upon the housetop to pray and “fell into a trance and saw heaven opened,” and again when “a vision appeared to Paul in the night,” of a man who begged him to come over into Macedonia, so that “immediately we endeavored to go into Macedonia, assuredly gathering that the Lord had called us.” In another place Paul—the same Paul who had that wonderful vision on the road to Damascus—declares that he knew a man who was caught up into paradise and heard unspeakable words. In Paul we have the typical religious evangel, a young enthusiast, a man of sensibility and refinement above his fellows, so carried away by devotion to his ideal that he attaches himself to the most uncompromising sect among his own people, and when it seems to be assailed by an alien force, not content simply to hold his own belief, he seeks and obtains official authority to root out the heresy. As he goes on this errand, “breathing out threatenings and slaughter,” the mental strain overcomes him. He falls down in the road, hears voices, and sees a strange light. His companions raise him up and lead him by the hand into the city, where for several days he remains sightless without food or drink. From this time he is a changed man. Without any previous knowledge or investigation of the new faith he believes himself called by heaven to embrace it, and the same irrepressible enthusiasm which had made him its bitterest persecutor leads him now to defend it against all the world and even to cross the sea into a far country in obedience to a dream to spread the doctrine. In many respects he reminds us forcibly of such later evangelists as Fox and Wesley.

The cloudy indistinctness which Wovoka and his followers ascribe to the Father as he appears to them in their trance visions has numerous parallels in both Testaments. At Sinai the Lord declares to Moses, “I come unto thee in a thick cloud,” and thereafter whenever Moses went up the mountain or entered into the tabernacle to receive revelations “the Lord descended upon it in a cloudy pillar.” Job also tells us that “thick clouds are a covering to him,” and Isaiah says that he “rideth upon a swift cloud,” which reminds us of the Ghost song of the Arapaho representing the Indian redeemer as coming upon the whirlwind. Moses goes up into a mountain to receive inspiration like Wovoka of the Paiute and Bi′äñk̔i of the Kiowa. As Wovoka claims to bring rain or snow at will, so Elijah declares that “there shall not be dew nor rain these years, but according to my word,” while of the Jewish Messiah himself his wondering disciples say that even the winds and the sea obey him.

Fasting and solitary contemplation in lonely places were as powerful auxiliaries to the trance condition in Bible days as now among the tribes of the plains. When Daniel had his great vision by the river Hiddekel, he tells us that he had been mourning for three full weeks, during which time he “ate no pleasant bread, neither came flesh nor wine in my mouth, neither did I anoint myself at all.” When the vision comes, all the strength and breath leave his body and he falls down, and “then was I in a deep sleep on my face, and my face toward the ground.” Six hundred years later, Christ is “led by the spirit into the wilderness, being forty days tempted by the devil, and in those days he did eat nothing.” Another instance occurs at his baptism, when, as he was coming out of the water, he saw the heavens opened and the spirit like a dove, and heard a voice, and immediately was driven by the spirit into the wilderness. In the transfiguration on the mountain, when “his face did shine as the sun,” and in the agony of Gethsemane, with its mental anguish and bloody sweat, we see the same phenomena that appear in the lives of religious enthusiasts from Mohammed and Joan of Arc down to George Fox and the prophets of the Ghost dance.

Dancing, which forms so important a part of primitive rituals, had a place among the forms of the ancient Hebrew and of their neighbors, although there are but few direct references to it in the Bible. The best example occurs in the account of the transfer of the ark to Zion, where there were processions and sacrifices, and King David himself “danced before the Lord with all his might.”

MOHAMMEDANISM

Six hundred years after the birth of Christianity another great religion, which numbers its adherents by the hundred million, had its origin in the same region and among a kindred Semitic race. Its prophet and high priest was the cataleptic Mohammed, who was born about the year 570 and died in 642. In infancy and all through life he was afflicted with epileptic attacks and fainting fits, during which he would lose all appearance of life without always losing inner consciousness. It was while in this condition that he received the visions and revelations on which he built his religious system. Frequently at such times it was necessary to wrap him up to preserve life in his body, and at other times he was restored by being drenched with cold water. At one time for a period of two years he was in such a mental condition—subject to hallucinations—that he doubted his own sanity, believing himself to be possessed by evil spirits, and contemplated suicide. “It is disputed whether Mohammed was epileptic, cataleptic, hysteric, or what not. Sprenger seems to think that the answer to this medical question is the key to the whole problem of Islam.” (“Mohammedanism,” in Encyclopedia Britannica.) To how many other systems might such an answer be the key?

We are told that ordinarily his body had but little natural warmth, but that whenever the angel appeared to him, as the Mohammedan biographers express it, the perspiration burst out on his forehead, his eyes became red, he trembled violently, and would bellow like a young camel—all the accompaniments of the most violent epileptic fit. Usually the fit ended in a swoon. There is no question that he was sincere in his claim of divine inspiration. His last hours were serene and peaceful, and there is no evidence of the slightest misgiving on his part as to the reality of his mission as a prophet sent from God. Some of his inspiration came in dreams, and he was accustomed to say that a prophet’s dream is a revelation. At times the revelation came to him without any painful or strange accompaniment.

The fit during which he received the revelation of his religious mission is thus described, as it came to him after a long period of despondency and mental hallucinations: “In this morbid state of feeling he is said to have heard a voice, and on raising his head, beheld Gabriel, who assured him he was the prophet of God. Frightened, he returned home, and called for covering. He had a fit, and they poured cold water on him, and when he came to himself he heard these words: ‘Oh, thou covered one, arise, and preach, and magnify thy Lord;’ and henceforth, we are told, he received revelations without intermission. Before this supposed revelation he had been medically treated on account of the evil eye, and when the Koran first descended to him he fell into fainting fits, when, after violent shudderings, his eyes closed, and his mouth foamed.” (Gardner, Faiths of the World.)

Solitude also had much to do with his visions, as a great part of his early life was spent in the lonely occupation of a shepherd among the Arabian mountains. Like other prophets he asserted that the various angels had offered him control over the stars, the sun, the mountains, and the sea. Further, it is claimed most positively by all his followers that his great ascent into the seven heavens was made bodily and in full wakefulness, and not merely in spirit while asleep, and this assertion they supported by “the declarations of God and his prophet, the imâms of the truth, the verses of the Koran, and thousands of traditions,” as earnestly as religious enthusiasts the world over have ever backed up the impossible.

The kinship of the late Semitic idea to the old is well exemplified in Mohammed’s account of this vision, in which he is conducted to Mount Sinai, where he is directed to alight and pray, because there God had spoken to Moses, after which he is conducted to Bethlehem, where again he is directed to alight and pray, because there Jesus was born, after which again he is brought into the presence of Abraham, Moses, Enoch, John the Baptist, and Jesus, by all of whom he was hailed as a worthy brother and prophet. The direct descent becomes plainer still when we learn how Mohammed, on his return from talking with God in the seventh heaven, again meets Moses, who persuades him that the religious exercises prescribed by God for the faithful are too onerous, and goes back with him to plead with the Lord for a reduction of the daily prayers from fifty to five as Abraham pleaded for Sodom.

The spirit world of our Indians is a place where death and old age are unknown, and where every one is happy in the simple happiness which he knew on earth—hunting, feasting, and playing the old-time games with former friends, but without war, for there all is peace. The ideal happiness is material, perhaps, but it is such happiness as the world might long for, with nothing in it gross or beyond reasonable probability. The Semitic ideal, from which our own is derived, is very different. We get one conception, in the book of Revelation and the limits of space, whose business is every morning to praise the Lord and set all the cocks on earth to crowing after him. There is an angel who bathes daily in a river, after which he flaps his wings, and from every drop that falls from them there is created an angel with 20,000 faces and 40,000 tongues, each of which speaks a distinct language, unintelligible to the rest. But the masterpiece is the tree tooba, whose fruit is the food of the inhabitants of paradise. Every branch produces a hundred thousand different-colored fruits, while from its roots run rivers of water, milk, wine, and honey. As if this were not enough, the tree produces also ready-made clothing. “On the tree were baskets filled with garments of the brocade and satin of paradise. A million of baskets are allotted to each believer, each basket containing a hundred thousand garments, all of different class and fashion”—and so on ad nauseam. (Merrick’s Mohammed.) When we reflect that this is accepted by more than 150,000,000 civilized Orientals, from whom we have derived much of our own culture, we may, perhaps, be more tolerantly disposed toward the American Indian belief.

JOAN OF ARC

The most remarkable, the most heroic and pathetic instance of religious hallucination in Europe is that of Joan of Arc, known as the Maid of Orleans, born in 1412 and burned at the stake in 1431, and recently beatified as the patron saint of France. Naturally of a contemplative disposition, she was accustomed from earliest childhood to long fasts and solitary communings, in which she brooded over the miserable condition of her country, then overrun by English armies. When 13 years of age, she had a vision in which a voice spoke to her from out of a great light, telling her that God had chosen her to restore France. She immediately fell on her knees and made a vow of virginity and entire devotion to the cause, and from that day to the time of her cruel death she believed herself inspired and guided by supernatural voices to lead her countrymen against the invader. A simple peasant girl, she sought out the royal court and boldly announced to the king her divine mission. Her manner made such an impression that she was assigned a command, and putting on a soldier’s dress and carrying a sword which she claimed had come to her through miraculous means, she led the armies of France, performing superhuman feats of courage and endurance and winning victory after victory for three years until she was finally captured. After a long and harassing mockery of a trial, in which the whole machinery of the law and the church was brought into action for the destruction of one poor girl barely 19 years of age, she was finally condemned and burned at Rouen, ostensibly as a witch and a heretic, but really as the most dangerous enemy of English tyranny in France.

She was forever hearing these spirit voices, which she called “her voices” or “her counsel.” They spoke to her with articulate words in the ripple of the village fountain, in the vesper bells, in the rustling of the leaves, and in the sighing of the wind. Sometimes it was the warlike archangel Michael, but oftener it was the gentle Saint Katherine, who appeared to her as a beautiful woman wearing a crown. Her visions must be ascribed to the effect of the troubled times in which she lived, acting on an enthusiastic, unquestioning religious temperament. She is described as physically robust and intellectually keen, aside from her hallucination, as was proven in her trial, and there is no evidence that she was subject to epilepsy or other abnormal conditions such as belonged to Mohammed and most others of the same class. Her long and frequent fasts unquestionably aided the result. She claimed no supernatural powers outside of her peculiar mission, and in every public undertaking relied entirely on the guidance of her voices.

Toward the end these voices were accompanied by other hallucinations, together with presentiments of her coming death. On one occasion, while assaulting a garrison, her men fled, leaving her standing on the moat with only four or five soldiers. Seeing her danger, a French officer galloped up to rescue her and impatiently asked her why she stood there alone. Lifting her helmet from her face she looked at him with astonishment and replied that she was not alone—that she had 50,000 men with her—and then, despite his entreaties, she turned to her phantom army and shouted out her commands to bring logs to bridge the moat. It was in April, while standing alone on the ramparts of Mélun, that the voices first told her that she would be taken before midsummer. From that time the warning was constantly repeated, and although she told no one and still exposed herself fearlessly, she no longer assumed the responsibility of command. Two months later she was in the hands of her enemies.

Throughout the trial every effort was made by her enemies to shake her statement as to the voices, or, failing in that, to prove them from the devil, but to the last she steadfastly maintained that the voices were with her and came from heaven. According to her own statement these voices were three—one remained always with her, another visited her at short intervals, while both deliberated with the third. On one occasion, when hard pressed by her enemies, she answered solemnly, “I believe firmly, as firmly as I believe the Christian faith and that God has redeemed us from the pains of hell, that the voice comes from God and by his command.” And again she asserted, “I have seen Saint Michael and the two saints so well that I know they are saints of paradise. I have seen them with my bodily eyes, and I believe they are saints as firmly as I believe that God exists.”

When questioned as to her original inspiration, she stated that the voice had first come to her when she was about 13 years of age. “The first time I heard it I was very much afraid. It was in my father’s garden at noon in the summer. I had fasted the day before. The voice came from the right hand by the church, and there was a great light with it. When I came into France, I heard it frequently. I believe it was sent me from God. After I heard it three times, I knew it was the voice of an angel. I understand perfectly what it says. It bade me be good and go to church often, and it told me I must go into France. Two or three times a week it said I must go into France, until I could no longer rest where I was. It told me I should raise the siege of Orleans, and that Robert de Baudricourt would give me people to conduct me. Twice he repulsed me, but the third time he received me and sped me on my way.”

The examiners were very curious to know by what sign she had recognized the king when she had first seen him in the midst of his courtiers. To this question she said she must first consult with Saint Katherine before replying, and afterward continued: “The sign was a crown. The first time I saw the king he had the sign, and it signified that he should hold the kingdom of France. I neither touched it nor kissed it. The angel came by the command of God and entered by the door of the room. I came with the angel up the steps to the king’s room and the angel came before the king and bowed and inclined himself before the king, and said: ‘My lord, here is your sign; take it.’ He departed by the way he had come. There were a number of other angels with him, and Saint Katherine and Saint Margaret. In the little chapel he left me. I was neither glad nor afraid, but I was very sorrowful, and I wish he had taken away my soul with him.”

To another question she replied emphatically: “If I were at judgment, if I saw the fire kindled and the fagots ablaze and the executioner ready to stir the fire, and if I were in the fire, I would say no more, and to the death I would maintain what I have said in the trial.”

The end came at last in the market place of Rouen, when this young girl, whose name for years had been a terror to the whole English army, was dragged in her white shroud and bound to the stake, and saw the wood heaped up around her and the cruel fire lighted under her feet. “Brother Martin, standing almost in the draft of the flames, heard her sob with a last sublime effort of faith, bearing her witness to God whom she trusted: ‘My voices have not deceived me!’ And then came death.” (Parr, Jeanne d’Arc.)

DANCE OF SAINT JOHN

In 1374 an epidemic of maniacal religious dancing broke out on the lower Rhine and spread rapidly over Germany, the Netherlands, and into France. The victims of the mania claimed to dance in honor of Saint John. Men and women went about dancing hand in hand, in pairs, or in a circle, on the streets, in the churches, at their homes, or wherever they might be, hour after hour without rest until they fell into convulsions. While dancing they sang doggerel verses in honor of Saint John and uttered unintelligible cries. Of course they saw visions. At last whole companies of these crazy fanatics, men, women, and children, went dancing through the country, along the public roads, and into the cities, until the clergy felt compelled to interfere, and cured the dancers by exorcising the evil spirits that moved them. In the fifteenth century the epidemic broke out again. The dancers were now formed into divisions by the clergy and sent to the church of Saint Vitus at Rotestein, where prayers were said for them, and they were led in procession around the altar and dismissed cured. Hence the name of Saint Vitus’ dance given to one variety of abnormal muscular tremor. (Schaff, Religious Encyclopedia.)

THE FLAGELLANTS

About the same time another strange religious extravagance spread over western Europe. Under the name of Flagellants, thousands of enthusiasts banded together with crosses, banners, hymns, and all the paraphernalia of religion, and went about in procession, publicly scourging one another as an atonement for their sins and the sins of mankind in general. They received their first impetus from the preaching of Saint Anthony of Padua in the thirteenth century. About the year 1260 the movement broke out nearly simultaneously in Italy, France, Germany, Austria, and Poland, and afterward spread into Denmark and England. It was at its height in the fourteenth century. In Germany in 1261 the devotees, preceded by banner and crosses, marched with faces veiled and bodies bared above the waist, and scourged themselves twice a day for thirty-three successive days in memory of the thirty-three years of Christ’s life. The strokes of the whip were timed to the music of hymns. Men and women together took part in the scourging. The mania finally wore itself out, but reappeared in 1349 with more systematic organization. According to Schaff, “When they came to towns, the bands marched in regular military order and singing hymns. At the time of flagellation they selected a square or churchyard or field. Taking off their shoes and stockings and forming a circle, they girded themselves with aprons and laid down flat on the ground.... The leader then stepped over each one, touched them with the whip, and bade them rise. As each was touched they followed after the leader and imitated him. Once all on their feet the flagellation began. The brethren went two by two around the whole circle, striking their backs till the blood trickled down from the wounds. The whip consisted of three thongs, each with four iron teeth. During the flagellation a hymn was sung. After all had gone around the circle the whole body again fell on the ground, beating upon their breasts. On arising they flagellated themselves a second time. While the brethren were putting on their clothes a collection was taken up among the audience. The scene was concluded by the reading of a letter from Christ, which an angel had brought to earth and which commended the pilgrimages of the Flagellants. The fraternities never tarried longer than a single day in a town. They gained great popularity, and it was considered an honor to entertain them.” (Schaff, Religious Encyclopedia.) The society still exists among the Latin races, although under the ban of the church. As late as 1820 a procession of Flagellants passed through the streets of Lisbon. Under the name of Penitentes they have several organizations in the Mexican towns of our southwest, where they periodically appear in processions, inflicting horrible self-torture on themselves, even to the extent of binding one of their number upon a cross, which is then set up in the ground, while the blood streams down the body of the victim from the wounds made by a crown of cactus thorns and from innumerable gashes caused by the thorny whips. Such things among people called civilized enables us to understand the feeling which leads the Indian to offer himself a willing sacrifice in the sun dance and other propitiatory rites.

RANTERS, QUAKERS, AND FIFTH-MONARCHY MEN

The middle of the seventeenth century was a time of great religious and political upheaval in England. Hatreds were intense and persecutions cruel and bitter, until men’s minds gave way under the strain. “The air was thick with reports of prophecies and miracles, and there were men of all parties who lived on the border land between sanity and insanity.” This was due chiefly to the long-continued mental tension which bore on the whole population during this troublous period, and in particular cases to wholesale confiscations, by which families were ruined, and to confinement in wretched prisons, suffering from insufficient food and brutal treatment. Individuals even in the established church began to assert supernatural power, while numerous new sects sprang up, with prophecy, miracle working, hypnotism, and convulsive ecstasy as parts of their doctrine or ritual. Chief among these were the Ranters, the Quakers, and the Fifth-Monarchy Men. The first and last have disappeared with the conditions which produced them; but the Quakers, being based on a principle, have outlasted persecution, and, discarding the extravagances which belonged to the early period, are now on a permanent foundation under the name of the “Society of Friends.” One of the Ranter prophets, in 1650, claimed to be the reincarnation of Melchizedek, and even declared his divinity. He asserted that certain persons then living were Cain, Judas, Jeremiah, etc., whom, he had raised from the dead, and the strangest part of it was that the persons concerned stoutly affirmed the truth of his assertion. Others of them claimed to work miracles and to produce lights and apparitions in the dark. In Barclay’s opinion all the evidence “supports the view that these persons were mad, and had a singular power of producing a kind of sympathetic madness or temporary aberration of intellect in others.”

We are better acquainted with the Quakers (Friends), although it is not generally known that they were originally addicted to similar practices. Such, however, is the fact, as is shown by the name itself. Their founder, George Fox, claimed and believed that he had the gift of prophecy and clairvoyance, and of healing by a mere word, and his biographer, Janney, of the same denomination, apparently sees no reason to doubt that such was the case. As might have been expected, he was also a believer in dreams.

We are told that on one occasion, on coming into the town of Lichfield, “a very remarkable exercise attended his mind, and going through the streets without his shoes he cried, ‘Woe to the bloody city of Lichfield.’ His feelings were deeply affected, for there seemed to be a channel of blood running down the streets, and the market place appeared like a pool of blood.” On inquiry he learned that a large number of Christians had been put to death there during the reign of the Emperor Diocletian thirteen centuries before. “He therefore attributed the exercise which came upon him to the sense that was given him of the blood of the martyrs.”

We are also told that he “received an evidence” of the great fire of London in 1666, before the event, and Janney narrates at length a “still more remarkable vision” of the same fire by another Friend, “whose prophecy is well attested.” According to the account, this man rode into the city, as though having come in haste, and went up and down the streets for two days, prophesying that the city would be destroyed by fire. To others of his own denomination he declared that he had had a vision of the event some time before, but had delayed to declare it as commanded, until he felt the fire in his own bosom. When the fire did occur as he had predicted, he stood before the flames with arms outstretched, as if to stay their advance, until forcibly brought away by his friends.

In mental and physical temperament Fox seems to have closely resembled Mohammed and the Indian prophets of the Ghost dance. We are told that he had much mental suffering and was often under great temptation. “He fasted much, and walked abroad in solitary places. Taking his Bible, he sat in hollow trees or secluded spots, and often at night he walked alone in silent meditation.” At one time “he fell into such a condition that he looked like a corpse, and many who came to see him supposed him to be really dead. In this trance he continued fourteen days, after which his sorrow began to abate, and with brokenness of heart and tears of joy he acknowledged the infinite love of God.” (Janney, George Fox.)

The sect obtained the name of Quakers from the violent tremblings which overcame the worshipers in the early days, and which they regarded as manifestations of divine power on them. So violent were these convulsions that, as their own historian tells us, on one occasion the house itself seemed to be shaken. According to another authority, men and women sometimes fell down and lay upon the ground struggling as if for life. Their ministers, however, seem not to have encouraged such exhibitions, but strove to relieve the fit by putting the patient to bed and administering soothing medicines. (“Quakers,” Encyclopedia Britannica.)

The Fifth-Monarchy Men were a small band of religionists who arose about the same time, proclaiming that the “Fifth Monarchy” prophesied by Daniel was at hand, when Christ would come down from heaven and reign visibly upon earth for a thousand years. In 1657 they formed a plot to kill Cromwell, and in 1661 they broke out in insurrection at night, parading the streets with a banner on which was depicted a lion, proclaiming that Christ had come and declaring that they were invulnerable and invincible, as “King Jesus” was their invisible leader. Troops were called out against them, but the Fifth-Monarchy Men, expecting supernatural assistance, refused to submit, and fought until they were nearly all shot down. The leaders were afterward tried and executed. (Janney’s George Fox and Schaff’s Religious Encyclopedia.)

FRENCH PROPHETS

Forty years later, about the end of the seventeenth century, another sect of convulsionists, being driven out of France, “found an asylum in Protestant countries [and] carried with them the disease, both of mind and body, which their long sufferings had produced.” They spread into Germany and Holland, and in 1706 reached England, where they became known as “French prophets.” Their meetings were characterized by such extravagance of convulsion and trance performance that they became the wonder of the ignorant and the scandal of the more intelligent classes, notwithstanding which the infection spread far and wide. We are told that they “were wrought upon in a very extraordinary manner, not only in their minds, but also in their physical systems. They had visions and trances and were subject to violent agitations of body. Men and women, and even little children, were so exercised that spectators were struck with great wonder and astonishment. Their powerful admonitions and prophetic warnings were heard and received with reverence and awe.”

At one time Charles Wesley had occasion to stop for the night with a gentleman who belonged to the sect. Wesley was unaware of the fact until, as they were about to go to bed, his new friend suddenly fell into a violent fit and began to gobble like a turkey. Wesley was frightened and began exorcising him, so that he soon recovered from the fit, when they went to bed, although the evangelist confesses that he himself did not sleep very soundly with Satan so near him.

Some time afterward Wesley with several companions visited a prophetess of the sect, as he says, to try whether the spirits came from God. She was a young woman of agreeable speech and manner. “Presently she leaned back in her chair and had strong workings in her breast and uttered deep sighs. Her head and her hands and by turns every part of her body were affected with convulsive motions. This continued about ten minutes. Then she began to speak with a clear, strong voice, but so interrupted with the workings, sighings, and contortions of her body that she seldom brought forth half a sentence together. What she said was chiefly in spiritual words, and all as in the person of God, as if it were the language of immediate inspiration.” (Southey’s Wesley, I, and Evans’ Shakers.)

JUMPERS

About 1740 a similar extravagant sect, known as the Jumpers, arose in Wales. According to the description given by Wesley, their exercises were a very exact parallel of the Ghost dance. “After the preaching was over anyone who pleased gave out a verse of a hymn, and this they sung over and over again, with all their might and main, thirty or forty times, till some of them worked themselves into a sort of drunkenness or madness; they were then violently agitated, and leaped up and down in all manner of postures frequently for hours together.” A contemporary writer states that he had seen perhaps ten thousand at a single meeting of the Jumpers shouting out in the midst of the sermon and ready to leap for joy. (Southey’s Wesley, II.)

METHODISTS

About the same time the Methodists originated in England under Wesley and Whitefield, and their assemblies were characterized by all the hysteric and convulsive extravagance which they brought with them to this country, and which is not even yet extinct in the south. The most remarkable of these exhibitions took place under the preaching of Wesley, following him, as we are told, wherever he went. Whitefield, although more forcible and sensational in his preaching, did not at first produce the same effect on his hearers, and considered such manifestations as but doubtful signs of the presence of the Lord and by no means to be encouraged. On preaching, however, to a congregation in which Wesley had already produced such convulsions, and where, consequently, there was a predisposition in this direction, several persons were thus seized and sank down upon the floor, and we are told by the biographer “this was a great triumph to Wesley.”

Wesley himself describes several instances. At one time, he states, a physician suspecting fraud attended a meeting during which a woman was thrown into a fit, crying aloud and weeping violently, until great drops of sweat ran down her face and her whole body shook. The doctor stood close by, noting every symptom, and not knowing what to think, being convinced that it was not fraud or any natural disorder. “But when both her soul and body were healed in a moment he acknowledged the finger of God.” On another occasion, Wesley tells us, “While I was earnestly inviting all men to enter into the Holiest by this new and living way, many of those that heard began to call upon God with strong cries and tears. Some sank down, and there remained no strength in them. Others exceedingly trembled and quaked. Some were torn with a kind of convulsive motion in every part of their bodies, and that so violently that often four or five persons could not hold one of them. I have seen many hysterical and epileptic fits, but none of them were like these in many respects. I immediately prayed that God would not suffer those who were weak to be offended; but one woman was greatly, being sure that they might help it if they would, no one should persuade her to the contrary; and she was got three or four yards, when she also dropped down in as violent an agony as the rest.”

At another time, “while he was speaking one of his hearers dropped down, and in the course of half an hour seven others, in violent agonies. The pains as of hell, he says, came about them; but notwithstanding his own reasoning neither he nor his auditors called in question the divine origin of these emotions, and they went away rejoicing and praising God.... Sometimes he scarcely began to speak before some of his believers, overwrought with expectation, fell into the crisis, for so it may be called in this case, as properly as in animal magnetism. Sometimes his voice could scarcely be heard amid the groans and cries of these suffering and raving enthusiasts. It was not long before men, women, and children began to act the demoniac as well as the convert. Wesley had seen many hysterical fits and many fits of epilepsy, but none that were like these, and he confirmed the patients in their belief that they were torn of Satan. One or two indeed perplexed him a little, for they were tormented in such an unaccountable manner that they seemed to be lunatic, he says, as well as sore vexed. But suspicions of this kind made little impression upon his intoxicated understanding; the fanaticism which he had excited in others was now reacting upon himself. How should it have been otherwise? A Quaker, who was present at one meeting and inveighed against what he called the dissimulation of these creatures, caught the contagious emotion himself, and even while he was biting his lips and knitting his brows, dropped down as if he had been struck by lightning.” (Southey’s Wesley.)

SHAKERS

About the year 1750 there originated in England another peculiar body of sectarians calling themselves the “United Society of Believers in Christ’s Second Appearing,” but commonly known, for obvious reasons, as Shakers. Their chief prophetess and founder was “Mother” Ann Lee, whom they claim as the actual reincarnation of Christ. They claim also the inspiration of prophecy, the gift of healing, and sometimes even the gift of tongues, and believe in the reality of constant intercourse with the spirit world through visions. In consequence of persecution in England, on account of their public dancing, shouting, and shaking, they removed to this country about 1780 and settled at New Lebanon, New York, where the society still keeps up its organization.

The best idea of the Shakers is given in a small volume by Evans, who was himself a member of the sect. Speaking of the convulsive manifestations among them, he says: “Sometimes, after sitting awhile in silent meditation, they were seized with a mighty trembling, under which they would often express the indignation of God against all sin. At other times they were exercised with singing, shouting, and leaping for joy at the near prospect of salvation. They were often exercised with great agitation of body and limbs, shaking, running, and walking the floor, with a variety of other operations and signs, swiftly passing and repassing each other like clouds agitated with a mighty wind. These exercises, so strange in the eyes of the beholders, brought upon them the appellation of Shakers, which has been their most common name of distinction ever since.” With regard to their dancing, he says: “It is pretty generally known that the Shakers serve God by singing and dancing; but why they practice this mode of worship is not so generally understood.... When sin is fully removed, by confessing and forsaking it, the cause of heaviness, gloom, and sorrow is gone, and joy and rejoicing, and thanksgiving and praise are then the spontaneous effects of a true spirit of devotion. And whatever manner the spirit may dictate, or whatever the form into which the spirit may lead, it is acceptable to Him from whom the spirit proceeds.” On one particular occasion, “previous to our coming we called a meeting and there was [sic] so many gifts (such as prophecies, revelations, visions, and dreams) in confirmation of a former revelation for us to come that some could hardly wait for others to tell their gifts. We had a joyful meeting and danced till morning.”

Of Ann Lee, their founder, he asserts that she saw Jesus Christ in open vision and received direct revelations from this source. On a certain occasion she herself declared to her followers: “The room over your head is full of angels of God. I see them, and you could see them if you were redeemed. I look in at the windows of heaven and see what there is in the invisible world. I see the angels of God, and hear them sing. I see the glories of God. I see Ezekiel Goodrich flying from one heaven to another!” And, turning to the company present, she said, “Go in and join his resurrection.” She then began to sing, and they praised the Lord in the dance. On another occasion she said: “The apostles, in their day, saw as through a glass darkly, but we see face to face, and see things as they are, and converse with spirits and see their states. The gospel is preached to souls who have left the body. I see thousands of the dead rising and coming to judgment, now at this present time.” At another time she declared that she had seen a certain young woman in the spirit world, “praising God in the dance;” and of a man deceased, “He has appeared to me again, and has arisen from the dead and come into the first heaven and is traveling on to the second and third heaven.”

Their dance is performed regularly at their religious gatherings at the New Lebanon settlement. The two sexes are arranged in ranks opposite and facing each other, in which position they listen to a sermon by one of the elders, after which a hymn is sung. They then form a circle around a party of singers, to whose singing they keep time in the dance. At times the excitement and fervor of spirit become intense, and their bodily evolutions as rapid as those of the dervishes, although still preserving the order of the dance. (Evans’ Shakers and encyclopedia articles on Shakers.)

KENTUCKY REVIVAL

About the year 1800 an epidemic of religious frenzy, known as the Kentucky Revival, broke out in Kentucky and Tennessee, chiefly among the Methodists and Baptists, with accompaniments that far surpassed the wildest excesses of the Ghost dance. Fanatic preachers taught their deluded followers that the spiritual advent of the kingdom was near at hand, when Christ would reign on earth and there would be an end of all sin. The date generally fixed for the consummation was the summer of 1805, and the excitement continued and grew in violence for several years until the time came and passed without extraordinary event, when the frenzy gradually subsided, leaving the ignorant believers in a state of utter collapse. The performances at the meetings of these enthusiasts were of the most exaggerated camp-meeting order, such as may still be witnessed in many parts of the south, especially among the colored people. Evans, the Shaker historian, who is strong in the gift of faith, tells us that “the subjects of this work were greatly exercised in dreams, visions, revelations, and the spirit of prophecy. In these gifts of the spirit they saw and testified that the great day of God was at hand, that Christ was about to set up his kingdom on earth, and that this very work would terminate in the full manifestation of the latter day of glory.”

From another authority, endowed perhaps with less of fervor but with more of common sense, we get a description of these “exercises” which has a familiar ring that seems to bring it very near home. “The people remained on the ground day and night, listening to the most exciting sermons, and engaging in a mode of worship which consisted in alternate crying, laughing, singing, and shouting, accompanied with gesticulations of a most extraordinary character. Often there would be an unusual outcry; some bursting forth into loud ejaculations of thanksgiving; others exhorting their careless friends to ‘turn to the Lord;’ some struck with terror, and hastening to escape; others trembling, weeping, and swooning away, till every appearance of life was gone, and the extremities of the body assumed the coldness of a corpse. At one meeting not less than a thousand persons fell to the ground, apparently without sense or motion. It was common to see them shed tears plentifully about an hour before they fell. They were then seized with a general tremor, and sometimes they uttered one or two piercing shrieks in the moment of falling. This latter phenomenon was common to both sexes, to all ages, and to all sorts of characters.” (Caswall, The Prophet of the Nineteenth Century, quoted by Remy.)

After a time these crazy performances in the sacred name of religion became so much a matter of course that they were regularly classified in categories as the rolls, the jerks, the barks, etc. “The rolling exercise was affected by doubling themselves up, then rolling from one side to the other like a hoop, or in extending the body horizontally and rolling over and over in the filth like so many swine. The jerk consisted in violent spasms and twistings of every part of the body. Sometimes the head was twisted round so that the head was turned to the back, and the countenance so much distorted that not one of its features was to be recognized. When attacked by the jerks, they sometimes hopped like frogs, and the face and limbs underwent the most hideous contortions. The bark consisted in throwing themselves on all fours, growling, showing their teeth, and barking like dogs. Sometimes a number of people crouching down in front of the minister continued to bark as long as he preached. These last were supposed to be more especially endowed with the gifts of prophecy, dreams, rhapsodies, and visions of angels.” (Remy, Journey to Great Salt Lake City, I.)

Twenty years later the jerking epidemic again broke out in Tennessee, and is described in a letter by the famous visionary and revivalist, Lorenzo Dow, who was then preaching in the same region. His description agrees with that given the author by old men who lived at this time in eastern Tennessee. We quote from Dow’s letter: “There commenced a trembling among the wicked. One and a second fell from their seats. I think for eleven hours there was no cessation of the loud cries. Of the people, some who were standing and sitting fell like men shot on the field of battle, and I felt it like a tremor to run through my soul and veins so that it took away my limb power, so that I fell to the floor, and by faith saw a greater blessing than I had hitherto experienced.” At another place he says: “After taking a cup of tea, I began to speak to a vast audience, and I observed about thirty to have the jerks, though they strove to keep as still as they could. These emotions were involuntary and irresistible, as any unprejudiced mind might see.” At Marysville “many appeared to feel the word, but about fifty felt the jerks. On Sunday, at Knoxville, the governor being present, about one hundred and fifty had the jerking exercise, among them a circuit preacher, Johnson, who had opposed them a little while before. Camp meeting commenced at Liberty. Here I saw the jerks, and some danced. The people are taken with jerking irresistibly, and if they strive to resist it it worries them more than hard work. Their eyes, when dancing, seem to be fixed upward as if upon an invisible object, and they are lost to all below. I passed by a meeting house where I observed the undergrowth had been cut down for a camp meeting, and from fifty to a hundred saplings left breast high, which appeared to me so slovenish that I could not but ask my guide the cause, who observed they were topped so high and left for the people to jerk by. This so excited my attention that I went over the ground to view it, and found where the people had laid hold of them and jerked so powerfully that they kicked up the earth as a horse stamping flies. Persecutors are more subject to the jerks than others, and they have cursed and swore and damned it while jerking.” Then he says: “I have seen Presbyterians, Methodists, Quakers, Baptists, Church of England, and Independents exercised with the jerks—gentlemen and ladies, black and white, rich and poor—without exception. Those naturalists who wish to get it to philosophize upon it and the most godly are excepted from the jerks. The wicked are more afraid of it than of the smallpox or yellow fever.”

It is worthy of note that, according to his account, investigators who wished to study the phenomenon were unable to come under the influence, even though they so desired.

ADVENTISTS

About 1831 William Miller, a licensed minister, began to preach the advent of Christ and the destruction of the world, fixing the date for the year 1843. Like most others of his kind who have achieved notoriety, he based his prediction on the prophecies of the Bible, which he figured out with mathematical exactness. He began preaching in New York and New England, but afterward traveled southward, delivering, it is said, over three thousand lectures in support of his theory. His predictions led to the formation of a new sect commonly known as Adventists, who are said at one time to have numbered over fifty thousand. Carried away by blind enthusiasm they made their preparations for the end of all things, which they confidently expected in the summer of 1843. As the time drew near the believers made all preparations for their final departure from the world, many of them selling their property, and arraying themselves in white “ascension robes,” which were actually put on sale by the storekeepers for the occasion. But the day and the year went by without the fulfillment of the prophecy. Miller claimed to have discovered an error in his calculations and fixed one or two other dates later on, but as these also proved false, his followers lost faith and the delusion died out. The Adventists still number fifteen or twenty thousand, the largest body being in southern Michigan, but although they hold the doctrine of the near advent of the final end, and endeavor to be at all times ready, they no longer undertake to fix the date.

It may be noted here that the idea of a millennium, when the Messiah shall come in person upon the earth and reign with the just for a thousand years, was so firmly held by many of the early Christians that it may almost be said to have formed a part of the doctrinal tradition of the church. The belief was an inheritance from the Jews, many of whose sacred writers taught that time was to endure through seven great “years” of a thousand years each, the seventh and last being the Sabbatical year or millennium, when their Messiah would appear and make their kingdom the mistress of the world. For this materialistic view of the millennium the Christian fathers substituted a belief in the spiritual triumph of religion, when the armies of antichrist would be annihilated, but the expectation of the return of Christ to rule in person over his church before the last days was an essential part of the doctrine, founded on numerous prophecies of both the Old and the New Testament.

OTHER PARALLELS

BEEKMANITES

It would require a volume to treat of the various religious abnormalisms, based on hypnotism, trances, and the messiah idea, which have sprung up and flourished in different parts of our own country even within the last twenty years. Naturally these delusions thrived best among the ignorant classes, but there were some notable exceptions, particularly in the case of the Beekmanites or “Church of the Redeemed.” About 1875 Mrs Dora Beekman, the wife of a Congregational minister in Rockford, Illinois, began preaching that she was the immortal reincarnation of Jesus Christ. Absurd as this claim may appear, she found those who believed her, and as her converts increased in numbers they established their headquarters, which they called “heaven,” near Rockford, built a church, and went zealously to work to gather proselytes. Beekman refused to believe the new doctrine, but being unable to convince his wife of her folly he was finally driven to insanity. In the meantime the female Christ found an able disciple in the Reverend George Schweinfurth, a young Methodist minister of considerable cultivation and ability, who was installed as bishop and apostle of the new sect. Mrs Beekman dying soon after, in spite of her claim to immortality, Schweinfurth at once stepped into her place, declaring that the Christly essence had passed from her into himself. His claim was accepted, and when last heard from, about three years ago, he was worshiped by hundreds of followers drawn from the most prominent denominations of the vicinity as the risen Christ, the lord of heaven and the immortal maker and ruler of the earth. (J. F. L., 6, and current newspapers.)

PATTERSON AND BROWN’S MISSION

In 1888 a man named Patterson, in Soddy, a small town in eastern Tennessee, began preaching that a wonderful thing was about to happen, and after the matter had been talked about sufficiently for his purpose, he announced that Christ had come in the person of A. J. Brown, who had served as Patterson’s assistant. Later on Brown disappeared, and it was announced that he had gone up into the mountain to fast for forty days and nights in order to be fittingly prepared for his mission. At the end of this period, on a Sunday morning in June, his followers went out toward the hills, where he suddenly appeared before them, clothed in white, with his hands uplifted. A great shout went up, and the people rushed toward him, falling upon their knees and kissing his feet. Many who were ill declared themselves healed by his touch. So great was the fanaticism of these people that one girl declared she was ready to die to prove her faith, and the nonbelievers became so fearful that human life would be sacrificed that they sent for the sheriff at Chattanooga, and it required all his power to compel Patterson and Brown to leave the neighborhood that quiet might be restored. (J. F. L., 6.)

WILDERNESS WORSHIPERS

In 1889 and 1890 a remarkable messianic excitement developed among the negroes along Savannah river in Georgia and South Carolina, where one man after another proclaimed himself as Christ, promised miracles, drew crowds of excited men and women from their work, and created a general alarm among the white population of the whole section. The most prominent of these Christs was a mulatto named Bell, who went about preaching his divinity and exhorting all who would be saved to give up everything and follow him. Hundreds of negroes abandoned the cotton fields, the sawmills, and the turpentine woods to follow him, obeying his every word and ready to fall down and worship him. They assumed the name of “Wilderness Worshipers,” and set up in the woods a “temple” consisting of a series of circular seats around an oak. The excitement became so demoralizing and dangerous that Bell was finally arrested. His frenzied disciples would have resisted the officers, but he commanded them to be patient, declaring that he could not be harmed and that an angel would come and open his prison doors by night. As no specific charge could be formulated against him, he was released after a short time, and continued his preaching to greater crowds than before. At last he announced that the world would come to an end on August 16, 1890; that all the negroes would then turn white and all white men black, and that all who wished to ascend on the last day must purchase wings from him. (J. F. L., 6.) He was finally adjudged insane and sent to the asylum. Successors arose in his place, however, and kept up the excitement for a year afterward in spite of the efforts of the authorities to put a stop to it. One of these claimed to be King Solomon, while another asserted that he was Nebuchadnezzar, and emphasized his claim by eating grass on all fours. In addition to the “temple” in the woods they set up an “ark,” and were told by the leaders that any persecutors who should sacrilegiously attempt to touch it would fall down dead. Notwithstanding this warning, the officers destroyed both ark and temple in their efforts to end the delusion. At last a woman was killed by the enthusiasts, and a series of wholesale arrests followed. King Solomon, Nebuchadnezzar, and others who were clearly insane were sent to join Bell in the asylum, and the others were released from custody after the excitement had waned.

HEAVENLY RECRUITS

Within the last five years various local revivalists have attracted attention in different sections of Indiana, Illinois, and Missouri, by their extravagances, among which prophecies, visions, trances, and frenzied bodily exercises were all prominent. Particularly at the meetings of the “Heavenly Recruits” in central Indiana, and at other gatherings under the direction of Mrs Woodworth, cataleptic trances were of nightly occurrence. The physical and mental demoralization at last became so great that the meetings were suppressed by the authorities.

From the beginning of history the dance and kindred physical exercises have formed a part of the religious ritual of various oriental sects, while hypnotic powers and practices have been claimed for their priests. This is especially true of the Mohammedan sect or order of the Dervishes, of which some account is given in the appendix to this chapter.

APPENDIX—HYPNOTISM AND THE DANCE AMONG THE DERVISHES

[From Brown’s Dervishes]

+Hypnotism.+—It is through the performance of the Zikr, by khalvet (pious retirement for purposes of deep devotion), by the Tevejjuh (or turning the face or mind devoutly toward God in prayer), by the Murakebeh (or fearful contemplation of God), the Tesarruf (or self-abandonment to pious reflection and inspiration), and the Tesavvuf (or mystical spiritualism), that the fervent Dervish reaches peculiar spiritual powers called Kuvveh i roohee batinee (a mystical, internal, spiritual power). The life or biography of every eminent sheikh or peer details innumerable evidences of this power exercised in a strange and peculiar manner. This exercise is called the Kuvveh Iradat, or the “Power of the Will,” and, as a theory, may be traced historically to the Divine Power—the soul of man being connected with the Divine Spirit—from which it emanates, and with which, through the means before mentioned, it commences. Some sheikhs are more celebrated than others for their peculiar and strange powers, and it is to their superiority that their reputation and reverence in the Mussulman world in general, and among Dervishes in particular, is to be attributed. With the supposition that the details given of them by their biographers, disciples, or successors are not invented, or even exaggerated, their powers are certainly very remarkable. Whilst among them an implicit belief in them is firmly sustained, sultans and princes have evidently doubted them, and, being alarmed with the influence the possessors acquired and sustained among the public generally, they have often shown a direful exercise of their own arbitrary will and power, which resulted in the untimely end of the unfortunate sheikh. Many, on the other hand, have survived the frequent exercise of their “spiritual powers,” and either because they acquired a power and influence over the minds of their temporal rulers, or whether they used them for their own private purposes, so as to conciliate the more religious or fanatic, they succeeded in reaching advanced ages and a peaceful end of their remarkable careers. When the ruler of the country has not cared to order the execution of the sheikh who declared himself possessed of these spiritual powers, he has simply exiled him from his capital or his territory, and permitted him freely to exercise his powers and renown in some less objectionable locality. These powers can only be acquired through the long instruction of a superior spiritual director, or Murshid, or As-hâb i Yekeen, for whom the disciples ever retain a most grateful remembrance and attachment.

Among the practices of these powers is the faculty of foreseeing coming events; of predicting their occurrence; of preserving individuals from the harm and evil which would otherwise certainly result for them; of assuring to one person success over the machinations of another, so that he may freely attack him and prevail over him; of restoring harmony of sentiment between those who would otherwise be relentless enemies; of knowing when others devised harm against themselves, and through certain spells of preserving themselves and causing harm to befall the evil minded, and even of causing the death of anyone against whom they wish to proceed. All this is done as well from a distance as when near.

In other parts of the world, and among other people, these attainments would have been attributed to sorcery and witchcraft; in modern times they would be ascribed to spiritism, or magnetic influences, either of the spirit or of the body; but to the instructed Dervish they all derive their origin in the spirit of the holy sheikh—the special gift of the great Spirit of God, which commences with the spirit of man, from which it directly emanated. The condition or disposition necessary for these effects is called the Hâl (state or frame), and is much the same as that required by the magnetized, and the object of his operation. The powers of the body are enfeebled by fasting and mental fatigue in prayer, and the imagination kept in a fervid state, fully impressed with the conviction that such powers are really possessed by the sheikh, and that he can readily exercise them over the willing mind and body of the disciple. How the sheikh can produce such strange results on a distant and unconscious person is left to the admiration and imagination of the faithful disciple, as an incentive to exertions in the same true path as that of his sheikh.

To exercise the power of the will, it is necessary to contract the thoughts suddenly upon the object designed to be affected so perfectly as to leave no room for the mind to dwell, possibly, upon any other. The mind must not doubt for an instant of the success of this effort, nor the possibility of failure; it must, in fact, be completely absorbed by the one sole idea of performing the determination strongly taken and firmly relied upon. The persons must, from time to time, practice this; and as they proceed, they will be able to see how much propinquity exists between themselves and the Hazret i Asmâ (God?) and how much they are capable of exercising this power.

As an example, the author of the Reshihât narrates the following:

In my youth, I was ever with our Lord Molânâ Sa’eed ed Deen Kâshgharee at Hereed. It happened that we, one day, walked out together and fell in with an assembly of the inhabitants of the place who were engaged in wrestling. To try our powers we agreed to aid with our “powers of the will” one of the wrestlers, so that the other should be overcome by him, and after doing so, to change our design in favor of the discomfited individual. So we stopped and, turning toward the parties, gave the full influence of our united wills to one, and immediately he was able to subdue his opponent. As the person we chose, each in turn, conquered the other, whichever we willed to prevail became the most powerful of the two, the power of our own wills was thus clearly manifested.

On another occasion two other persons possessed of these same powers fell in with an assembly of people at a place occupied by prize fighters. “To prevent any of the crowd from passing between and separating us we joined our hands together. Two persons were engaged fighting; one was a powerful man, while the other was a spare and weak person. The former readily overcame the latter; and seeing this I proposed to my companion to aid the weak one by the power of our wills. So he bade me aid him in the project, while he concentrated his powers upon the weaker person. Immediately a wonderful occurrence took place; the thin, spare man seized his giant-like opponent and threw him on the ground with surprising force. The crowd cried out with astonishment as he turned him over on his back and held him down with apparent ease. No one present except ourselves knew the cause. Seeing that my companion was much affected by the effort which he had made, I bade him remark how perfectly successful we had been, and adding that there was no longer any necessity for our remaining there, we walked away.” (Pages 129–132.)

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Many individuals who have seriously wronged and oppressed his friends received punishments through the powers of the sheikh. Several instances are related wherein some such even fell sick and died, or were only restored to health by open declarations of repentance and imploring his prayerful intercession with God. His spirit seems to have accompanied those in whose welfare he took an active interest, and enabled them to commune with him, though far distant from him. His power of hearing them was well known to his friends, and several instances are cited to prove the fact. His power of affecting the health of those who injured him or his friends was greatly increased while he was excited by anger, and on such occasions his whole frame would be convulsed and his beard move about as if moved by electricity. On learning details of cruelty done to innocent individuals, the sheikh would be strangely affected, so much so that no one dared to address him until the paroxysm was passed; and on such occasions he never failed to commune spiritually with the sovereign or prince in such a mysterious manner as to inspire him to deal justly with the guilty person and secure his merited punishment.

Through his “mystical powers” many persons were impressed with the unrighteousness of their course, and, having repented of the same, became good and pious and firm believers in his spiritual influences. These powers were always connected with his prayers, and it was during these that he was enabled to assure the parties interested of their salutary results and the acceptation of their desires. It scarcely needs to be added, that these prayers were in conformance with Islamism, and were offered up to Allah, whom he adored, and to whose supreme will he attributes his powers. He constantly performed the Zikr Jehree, or “audibly called God’s name,” and the frequent repetition of this practice fitted him for such holy purposes. Sometimes he would affect the mind of the individual upon whom he exercised his powers in such a manner as to throw him into a species of trance, after which he could remember nothing that he had previously known, and continued in this state until the sheikh chose to restore him to the enjoyment of his ordinary faculties. Notwithstanding all of these eminent powers, this great sheikh is reputed to have spent the latter days of his life at Herat in extreme indigence, much slighted and neglected by those who had so admired him while in the vigor of his career. All fear of his mystical influences seems to have disappeared, and it is narrated that these greatly declined with his ordinary strength of mind and body. (Pages 137–139.)

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+Dervish dance.+—The exercises which are followed in these halls are of various kinds, according to the rules of each institution; but in nearly all they commence by the recital, by the sheikh, of the seven mysterious words of which we have spoken. He next chants various passages of the Koran, and at each pause, the Dervishes, placed in a circle round the hall, respond in chorus by the word “Allah!” or “Hoo!” In some of the societies they sit on their heels, the elbows close to those of each other, and all making simultaneously light movements of the head and the body. In others, the movement consists in balancing themselves slowly, from the right to the left, and from the left to the right, or inclining the body methodically forward and aft. There are other societies in which these motions commence seated, in measured cadences, with a staid countenance, the eyes closed or fixed upon the ground, and are continued on foot. These singular exercises are concentrated under the name of Murâkebeh (exaltation of the Divine glory), and also under that of the Tevheed (celebration of the Divine unity), from which comes the name Tevheed Khâneh, given to the whole of the halls devoted to these religious exercises.

In some of these institutions—such as the Kâdirees, the Rufâ′ees, the Khalwettees, the Bairâmees, the Gulshenees, and the Ushâkees—the exercises are made each holding the other by the hand, putting forward always the right foot and increasing at every step the strength of the movement of the body. This is called the Devr, which may be translated the “dance” or “rotation.” The duration of these dances is arbitrary—each one is free to leave when he pleases. Everyone, however, makes it a point to remain as long as possible. The strongest and most robust of the number, and the most enthusiastic, strive to persevere longer than the others; they uncover their heads, take off their turbans, form a second circle within the other, entwine their arms within those of their brethren, lean their shoulders against each other, gradually raise the voice, and without ceasing repeat “Yâ Allah!” or “Yâ Hoo!” increasing each time the movement of the body, and not stopping until their entire strength is exhausted.

Those of the order of the Rufâ′ees excel in these exercises. They are, moreover, the only ones who use fire in their devotions. Their practices embrace nearly all those of the other orders; they are ordinarily divided into five different scenes, which last more than three hours, and which are preceded, accompanied, and followed by certain ceremonies peculiar to this order. The first commences with praises which all the Dervishes offer to their sheikhs, seated before the altar. Four of the more ancient come forward the first, and approach their superior, embrace each other as if to give the kiss of peace, and next place themselves two to his right and two to his left. The remainder of the Dervishes, in a body, press forward in a procession, all having their arms crossed and their heads inclined. Each one, at first, salutes by a profound bow the tablet on which the name of his founder is inscribed. Afterwards, putting his two hands over his face and his beard, he kneels before the sheikh, kisses his hand respectfully, and then they all go on with a grave step to take their places on the sheepskins, which are spread in a half circle around the interior of the hall. So soon as a circle is formed, the Dervishes together chant the Tekbeer and the Fâtiha. Immediately afterwards the sheikh pronounces the words “Lâ ilâha ill′ Allah!” and repeats them incessantly; to which the Dervishes repeat “Allah!” balancing themselves from side to side, and putting their hands over their faces, on their breasts and their abdomens, and on their knees.

The second scene is opened by the Hamdee Mohammedee, a hymn in honour of the prophet, chanted by one of the elders placed on the right of the sheikh. During this chant the Dervishes continue to repeat the word “Allah!” moving, however, their bodies forward and aft. A quarter of an hour later they all rise up, approach each other, and press their elbows against each other, balancing from right to left and afterwards in a reverse motion, the right foot always firm, and the left in a periodical movement, the reverse of that of the body, all observing great precision of measure and cadence. In the midst of this exercise they cry out the words “Yâ Allah!” followed by that of “Yâ Hoo!” Some of the performers sigh, others sob, some shed tears, others perspire great drops, and all have their eyes closed, their faces pale, and the eyes languishing.

A pause of some minutes is followed by a third scene. It is performed in the middle of an Ilahee, chanted by the two elders on the right of the sheikh. The Ilahees, as has already been said, are spiritual cantiques, composed almost exclusively in Persian, by sheikhs deceased in the odor of sanctity. The Dervishes then hasten their movements, and, to prevent any relaxation, one of the first among them puts himself in their center, and excites them by his example. If in the assembly there be any strange Dervishes, which often happens, they give them, through politeness, this place of honor; and all fill it successively, the one after the other, shaking themselves as aforesaid. The only exception made is in favor of the Mevevees; these never perform any other dance than that peculiar to their own order, which consists in turning round on each heel in succession.

After a new pause commences the fourth scene. Now all the Dervishes take off their turbans, form a circle, bare their arms and shoulders against each other, and thus make the circuit of the hall at a measured pace, striking their feet at intervals against the floor, and all springing up at once. This dance continues during the Ilahees chanted alternately by the two elders to the left of the sheikh. In the midst of this chant the cries of “Yâ Allah!” are increased doubly, as also those of “Yâ Hoo!” with frightful howlings, shrieked by the Dervishes together in the dance. At the moment that they would seem to stop from sheer exhaustion the sheikh makes a point of exerting them to new efforts by walking through their midst, making also himself most violent movements. He is next replaced by the two elders, who double the quickness of the step and the agitation of the body; they even straighten themselves up from time to time, and excite the envy or emulation of the others in their astonishing efforts to continue the dance until their strength is entirely exhausted.

The fourth scene leads to the last, which is the most frightful of all, the wholly prostrated condition of the actors becoming converted into a species of ecstasy which they call Halet. It is in the midst of this abandonment of self, or rather of religious delirium, that they make use of red-hot irons. Several cutlasses and other instruments of sharp-pointed iron are suspended in the niches of the hall, and upon a part of the wall to the right of the sheikh. Near the close of the fourth scene two Dervishes take down eight or nine of these instruments, heat them red hot, and present them to the sheikh. He, after reciting some prayers over them, and invoking the founder of the order, Ahmed er Rufâ′ee, breathes over them, and raising them slightly to the mouth, gives them to the Dervishes, who ask for them with the greatest eagerness. Then it is that these fanatics, transported by frenzy, seize upon these irons, gloat upon them tenderly, lick them, bite them, hold them between their teeth, and end by cooling them in their mouths. Those who are unable to procure any seize upon the cutlasses hanging on the wall with fury, and stick them into their sides, arms, and legs.

Thanks to the fury of their frenzy, and to the amazing boldness which they deem a merit in the eyes of the Divinity, all stoically bear up against the pain which they experience with apparent gaiety. If, however, some of them fall under their sufferings, they throw themselves into the arms of their confrères, but without a complaint or the least sign of pain. Some minutes after this, the sheikh walks round the hall, visits each one of the performers in turn, breathes upon their wounds, rubs them with saliva, recites prayers over them, and promises them speedy cures. It is said that twenty-four hours afterward nothing is to be seen of their wounds. (Pages 218–222.)

* * * * *

There was no regularity in their dancing, but each seemed to be performing the antics of a madman; now moving his body up and down; the next moment turning round, then using odd gesticulations with his arms, next jumping, and sometimes screaming; in short, if a stranger observing them was not told that this was the involuntary effect of enthusiastic excitement, he would certainly think that these Durweeshes were merely striving to excel one another in playing the buffoon. (Page 260.)

* * * * *

+The fit.+—After this preface, the performers began the Zikr. Sitting in the manner above described, they chanted, in slow measure, Lá iláha illa ’lláh (there is no deity but God), to the following air: Lá i-lá hailla-lláh. Lá i-lá-ha-illa-l-lá-h. Lá i-lá ha illa-l-láh. Bowing the head twice on each repetition of “Lá iláha illa ’lláh.” Thus they continued about a quarter of an hour, and then, for about the same space of time, they repeated the same words to the same air, but in a quicker measure, and with correspondingly quicker motion....

They next rose, and, standing in the same order in which they had been sitting, repeated the same words to another air. During this stage of their performance they were joined by a tall, well-dressed, black slave, whose appearance induced me to inquire who he was. I was informed that he was a eunuch, belonging to the basha. The Zikkeers, still standing, next repeated the same words in a very deep and hoarse tone, laying the principal emphasis upon the word “Lá,” and the first syllable of the last word, Allah, and uttering, apparently with a considerable effort. The sound much resembled that which is produced by beating the rim of a tambourine. Each Zikkeer turned his head alternately to the right and left at each repetition of “Lá iláha illa ’lláh.” The eunuch above mentioned, during this part of the Zikr, became what is termed melboos, or “possessed.” Throwing his arms about, and looking up with a very wild expression of countenance, he exclaimed, in a very high tone and with great vehemence and rapidity, Allah! Allah! Allah! Allah! Allah! la! la! la! la! la! la! la! la! la! la! la! la! láh! Yá‛ammee! Yá‛ammee! Yá‛ammee! Ashmáwee! Yá Ashmáwee! Yá Ashmáwee! (Yá‛ammee signifies O, my uncle!) His voice gradually became faint, and when he had uttered those words, though he was held by a Durweesh who was next him, he fell on the ground, foaming at the mouth, his eyes closed, his limbs convulsed, and his fingers clenched over his thumbs. It was an epileptic fit. No one could see it and believe it to be the effect of feigned emotions; it was undoubtedly the result of a high state of religious excitement. Nobody seemed surprised at it, for occurrences of this kind at Zikrs are not uncommon. All the performers now appeared much excited, repeating their ejaculations with greater rapidity, violently turning their heads, and sinking the whole body at the same time, some of them jumping. The eunuch became melboos again several times, and I generally remarked that his fits happened after one of the Moonshids had sung a line or two, and exerted himself more than usually to excite his hearers. The singing was, indeed, to my taste, very pleasing. Toward the close of the Zikr a private soldier, who had joined through the whole performance, also seemed several times to be melboos, growling in a horrible manner and violently shaking his head from side to side. The contrast presented by the vehement and distressing exertions of the performers at the close of the Zikr, and their calm gravity and solemnity of manner at the commencement, was particularly striking. Money was collected during the performance for the Moonshid. The Zikkeers receive no pay. (Pages 252–255.)

THE SONGS

INTRODUCTORY

The Ghost-dance songs are of the utmost importance in connection with the study of the messiah religion, as we find embodied in them much of the doctrine itself, with more of the special tribal mythologies, together with such innumerable references to old-time customs, ceremonies, and modes of life long since obsolete as make up a regular symposium of aboriginal thought and practice. There is no limit to the number of these songs, as every trance at every dance produces a new one, the trance subject after regaining consciousness embodying his experience in the spirit world in the form of a song, which is sung at the next dance and succeeding performances until superseded by other songs originating in the same way. Thus, a single dance may easily result in twenty or thirty new songs. While songs are thus born and die, certain ones which appeal especially to the Indian heart, on account of their mythology, pathos, or peculiar sweetness, live and are perpetuated. There are also with each tribe certain songs which are a regular part of the ceremonial, as the opening song and the closing song, which are repeated at every dance. Of these the closing song is the most important and permanent. In some cases certain songs constitute a regular series, detailing the experiences of the same person in successive trance visions. First in importance, for number, richness of reference, beauty of sentiment, and rhythm of language, are the songs of the Arapaho.

THE ARAPAHO

TRIBAL SYNONYMY

Ähyä′to—Kiowa name; meaning unknown; the Kiowa call the wild plum by the same name.

Ano′s-anyotskano—Kichai name.

Ärä′păho—popular name; derivation uncertain; but, perhaps, as Dunbar suggests, from the Pawnee word tirapihu or larapĭhu, “he buys or trades,” in allusion to the Arapaho having formerly been the trading medium between the Pawnee, Osage, and others on the north, and the Kiowa, Comanche, and others to the southwest (Grinnell letter).

Äräpăkata—Crow name, from word Arapaho.

Bĕtidĕĕ—Kiowa Apache name.

Detseka′yaa—Caddo name, “dog eaters.”

Hitäniwo′ĭv—Cheyenne name, “cloud men.”

Inûna-ina—proper tribal name, “our people,” Or “people of our kind.”

Kaninahoic or Kanină′vish—Ojibwa name; meaning unknown.

Komse′ka-K̔iñahyup—former Kiowa name; “men of the worn-out leggings;” from komse′, “smoky, soiled, worn out;” kati, “leggings;” k̔̔iñahyup, “men.”

Maqpi′ăto—Sioux name, “blue cloud,” i. e., clear sky; reason unknown.

Niă′rharĭ′s-kûrikiwă′s-hûski—Wichita name.

Sani′ti′ka—Pawnee name, from the Comanche name.

Särĕtĭka—Comanche and Shoshoni name, “dog eaters,” in allusion to their special liking for dog flesh.

Sarĕtika—Wichita name, from the Comanche name.

TRIBAL SIGNS

Southern Arapaho, “rub noses;” northern Arapaho, “mother people;” Gros Ventres of the Prairie, “belly people.”

SKETCH OF THE TRIBE

The Arapaho, with their subtribe, the Gros Ventres, are one of the westernmost tribes of the wide-extending Algonquian stock. According to their oldest traditions they formerly lived in northeastern Minnesota and moved westward in company with the Cheyenne, who at that time lived on the Cheyenne fork of Red river. From the earliest period the two tribes have always been closely confederated, so that they have no recollection of a time when they were not allies. In the westward migration the Cheyenne took a more southerly direction toward the country of the Black hills, while the Arapaho continued more nearly westward up the Missouri. The Arapaho proper probably ascended on the southern side of the river, while the Gros Ventres went up the northern bank and finally drifted off toward the Blackfeet, with whom they have ever since been closely associated, although they have on several occasions made long visits, extending sometimes over several years, to their southern relatives, by whom they are still regarded as a part of the “Inûna-ina.” The others continued on to the great divide between the waters of the Missouri and those of the Columbia, then turning southward along the mountains, separated finally into two main divisions, the northern Arapaho continuing to occupy the head streams of the Missouri and the Yellowstone, in Montana and Wyoming, while the southern Arapaho made their camps on the head of the Platte, the Arkansas, and the Canadian, in Colorado and the adjacent states, frequently joining the Comanche and Kiowa in their raids far down into Mexico. From their earliest recollection, until put on reservations, they have been at war with the Shoshoni, Ute, Pawnee, and Navaho, but have generally been friendly with their other neighbors. The southern Arapaho and Cheyenne have usually acted in concert with the Comanche, Kiowa, and Kiowa Apache.

They recognize among themselves five original divisions, each having a different dialect. They are here given in the order of their importance:

1. Na′kasinĕ′na, Ba′achinĕna or Northern Arapaho. Nakasinĕna, “sagebrush men,” is the original name of this portion of the tribe and the divisional name used by themselves. The name Baachinĕna, by which they are commonly known to the rest of the tribe, is more modern and may mean “red willow (i. e., kinikinik) men,” or possibly “blood-pudding men,” the latter meaning said to have been an allusion to a kind of sausage formerly made by this band. They are commonly known as northern Arapaho, to distinguish them from the other large division living now in Oklahoma. The Kiowa distinguished them as Tägyä′ko, “sagebrush people,” a translation of their proper name, Baachinĕna. Although not the largest division, the Baachinĕna claim to be the “mother people” of the Arapaho, and have in their keeping the grand medicine of the tribe, the sĕicha or sacred pipe.

2. Na′wunĕna, “southern men,” or Southern Arapaho, called Nawathi′nĕha, “southerners,” by the northern Arapaho. This latter is said to be the archaic form. The southern Arapaho, living now in Oklahoma, constitute by far the larger division, although subordinate in the tribal sociology to the northern Arapaho. In addition to their everyday dialect, they are said to have an archaic dialect, some words of which approximate closely to Cheyenne.

3. Aä′ninĕna, Hitu′nĕna, or Gros Ventres of the Prairie. The first name, said to mean “white clay people” (from aäti, “white clay”), is that by which they call themselves. Hitunĕna or Hitunĕnina, “begging men,” “beggars,” or, more exactly, “spongers,” is the name by which they are called by the other Arapaho, on account, as these latter claim, of their propensity for filling their stomachs at the expense of someone else. The same idea is intended to be conveyed by the tribal sign, which signifies “belly people,” not “big bellies” (Gros Ventres), as rendered by the French Canadian trappers. The Kiowa call them Bot-k̔iñ′ago, “belly men.” By the Shoshoni, also, they are known as Sä′pani, “bellies,” while the Blackfeet call them Atsina, “gut people.” The Ojibwa call them Bahwetegow-ēninnewug, “fall people,” according to Tanner, whence they have sometimes been called Fall Indians or Rapid Indians, from their former residence about the rapids of the Saskatchewan. To the Sioux they are known as Sku′tani. Lewis and Clark improperly call them “Minnetarees of Fort de Prairie.” The Hidatsa or Minitari are sometimes known as Gros Ventres of the Missouri.

4. Bä′sawunĕ′na, “wood lodge men,” or, according to another authority, “big lodge people.” These were formerly a distinct tribe and at war with the other Arapaho. They are represented as having been a very foolish people in the old times, and many absurd stories are told of them, in agreement with the general Indian practice of belittling conquered or subordinate tribes. They have been incorporated with the northern Arapaho for at least a hundred and fifty years, according to the statements of the oldest men of that band. Their dialect is said to have differed very considerably from the other Arapaho dialects. There are still about one hundred of this lineage among the northern Arapaho, and perhaps a few others with the two other main divisions. Weasel Bear, the present keeper of the sacred pipe, is of the Bäsawunĕna.

5. Ha’nahawunĕna or Aanû’hawă (meaning unknown). These, like the Bäsawunĕna, lived with the northern Arapaho, but are now practically extinct.

* * * * *

There seems to be no possible trace of a clan or gentile system among the Arapaho, and the same remark holds good of the Cheyenne, Kiowa, and Comanche. It was once assumed that all Indian tribes had the clan system, but later research shows that it is lacking over wide areas in the western territory. It is very doubtful if it exists at all among the prairie tribes generally. Mr Ben Clark, who has known and studied the Cheyenne for half a lifetime, states positively that they have no clans, as the term is usually understood. This agrees with the result of personal investigations and the testimony of George Bent, a Cheyenne half-blood, and the best living authority on all that relates to his tribe. With the eastern tribes, however, and those who have removed from the east or the timbered country, as the Caddo, the gentile system is so much a part of their daily life that it is one of the first things to attract the attention of the observer.

In regard to the tribal camping circle, common to most of the prairie tribes, the Arapaho state that on account of their living in three main divisions they have had no common camping circle within their recollection, but that each of these three divisions constituted a single circle when encamped in one place.

Among the northern Arapaho, on the occasion of every grand gathering, the sacred pipe occupied a special large tipi in the center of the circle, and the taking down of this tipi by the medicine keeper was the signal to the rest of the camp to prepare to move. On the occasion of a visit of several hundred Cheyenne and Arapaho to the Kiowa and Comanche at Anadarko, in the summer of 1892, each of the visiting tribes camped in a separate circle adjacent to the other. The opening of the circle, like the door of each tipi, always faces the east.

Under the name of Kanenăvish the Arapaho proper are mentioned by Lewis and Clark in 1805, as living southwest of the Black hills. As a tribe they have not been at war with the whites since 1868, and took no part in the outbreak of the Cheyenne, Kiowa, and Comanche in 1874. At present they are in three main divisions. First come the Gros Ventres, numbering 718 in 1892, associated with the Asiniboin on Fort Belknap reservation in Montana. There are probably others of this band with the Blackfeet on the British side of the line. Next come the northern Arapaho, numbering 829, associated with the Shoshoni on Wind River reservation in Wyoming. They were placed on this reservation in 1876, after having made peace with the Shoshoni, their hereditary enemy, in 1869. They are divided into three bands, the “Forks of the River Men” under Black Coal, the head chief of the whole division; the “Bad Pipes” under Short Nose, and the “Greasy Faces” under Spotted Horse. The third division, the southern Arapaho, associated with the Cheyenne in Oklahoma, constitute the main body of the tribe and numbered 1,091 in 1892. They have five bands: 1, Wa′quithi, “bad faces,” the principal band and the one to which the head chief, Left Hand, belongs; 2, Aqa′thinĕ′na, “pleasant men;” 3, Gawunĕ′na or Ga′wunĕhäna (Kawinahan, “black people”—Hayden), “Blackfeet,” so called because said to be of part Blackfoot blood, the same name being applied to the Blackfoot tribe; 4, Ha′qihana, “wolves,” because they had a wolf (not coyote) for medicine; 5, Säsa′bä-ithi, “looking up,” or according to another authority, “looking around, i. e., watchers or lookouts.” Under the treaty of Medicine Lodge in 1867, they and the southern Cheyenne were placed on the reservation which they sold in 1890 to take allotments and become citizens. Their present chief is Left Hand (Nawat), who succeeded the celebrated Little Raven (Hosa) a few years ago. The whole number of the Arapaho and Gros Ventres, including a few in eastern schools, is about 2,700.

Until very recently the Arapaho have been a typical prairie tribe, living in skin tipis and following the buffalo in its migrations, yet they retain a tradition of a time when they were agricultural. They are of a friendly, accommodating disposition, religious and contemplative, without the truculent, pugnacious character that belongs to their confederates, the Cheyenne, although they have always proven themselves brave warriors. They are also less mercenary and more tractable than the prairie Indians generally, and having now recognized the inevitable of civilization have gone to work in good faith to make the best of it. Their religious nature has led them to take a more active interest in the Ghost dance, which, together with the rhythmic character of their language, has made the Arapaho songs the favorite among all the tribes of Oklahoma. The chief study of the Ghost dance was made among the Arapaho, whom the author visited six times for this purpose. One visit was made to those in Wyoming, the rest of the time being spent with the southern branch of the tribe.

SONGS OF THE ARAPAHO

1. +Opening Song—Eyehe′! nä′nisa′na.+

[Music]

Eyehe′! nä′nisa′na, Eyehe′! nä′nisa′na, Hi′nä chä′să′ äticha′nĭ′na He′eye′! Hi′nä chä′să′ äticha′nĭ′na He′eye′! Na′hăni nä′nithä′tuhŭ′na He′eye′! Na′hăni nä′nithä′tuhŭ′na He′eye′! Bi′taa′wu′ da′naa′bäna′wa He′eye′! Bi′taa′wu′ da′naa′bäna′wa He′eye′!

Translation

O, my children! O, my children! Here is another of your pipes—He′eye′! Here is another of your pipes—He′eye′! Look! thus I shouted—He′eye′! Look! thus I shouted—He′eye′! When I moved the earth—He′eye′! When I moved the earth—He′eye′!

This opening song of the Arapaho Ghost dance originated among the northern Arapaho in Wyoming and was brought down to the southern branch of the tribe by the first apostles of the new religion. By “another pipe” is probably meant the newer revelation of the messiah, the pipe being an important feature of all sacred ceremonies, and all their previous religious tradition, having centered about the sĕicha or flat pipe, to be described hereafter. The pipe, however, was not commonly carried in the dance, as was the case among the Sioux. In this song, as in many others of the Ghost dance, the father or messiah, Hesûna′nin, is supposed to be addressing “my children,” nänisa′na. The tune is particularly soft and pleasing, and the song remains a standard favorite. The second reference is to the new earth which is supposed to be already moving rapidly forward to slide over and take the place of this old and worn-out creation.

2. +Sĕ′icha hei′ta′wuni′na+

Sĕ′icha′ hei′ta′wuni′na—E′yahe′eye, Sĕ′icha′ hei′ta′wuni′na—E′yahe′eye. He′sûna′nini—Yahe′eye′, He′sûna′nini—Yahe′eye′. Ûtnitha′wuchä′wahănänina—E′yahe′eye′, Ûtnitha′wuchä′wahănänina—E′yahe′eye′. He′sana′nini—E′yahe′eye, He′sana′nini—E′yahe′eye.

Translation

The sacred pipe tells me—E′yahe′eye! The sacred pipe tells me—E′yahe′eye! Our father—Yahe′eye′! Our father—Yahe′eye′! We shall surely be put again (with our friends)—E′yahe′eye! We shall surely be put again (with our friends)—E′yahe′eye! Our father—E′yahe′eye! Our father—E′yahe′eye!

The sĕicha or flat pipe is the sacred tribal medicine of the Arapaho. According to the myth it was given to their ancestors at the beginning of the world after the Turtle had brought the earth up from under the water. It was delivered to them by the Duck, which was discovered swimming about on the top of the water after the emergence of the land. At the same time they were given an ear of corn, from which comes all the corn of the world. The Arapaho lost the art of agriculture when they came out upon the buffalo plains, but the sacred pipe the Turtle long since changed to stone, and the first ear of corn, also transformed to stone, they have cherished to this day as their great medicine. The pipe, turtle, and ear of corn are preserved among the northern Arapaho in Wyoming, who claim to be the “mother people” of the tribe. They are handed down in the keeping of a particular family from generation to generation, the present priestly guardian being Se′hiwûq, “Weasel Bear” (from sea, weasel, and wûq, bear; the name has also been rendered “Gray Bear,” from se, gray, and wûq, bear), of the Bäsawunĕ′na division.

The three sacred things are preserved carefully wrapped in deerskins, and are exposed only on rare occasions, always within the sacred tipi and in the presence of but a small number of witnesses, who take this opportunity to smoke the sacred pipe and pray for the things which they most desire. The pipe itself is of stone, and is described as apparently made in double, one part being laid over the other like the bark of a tree, the outer part of both bowl and stem being of the regular red pipestone, while the inner part of both is of white stone. The stem is only about 10 inches long, while the bowl is large and heavy, with the characteristic projection for resting the end upon the ground. Both bowl and stem are rounded, but with a flange of perhaps an inch in width along each side of the stem and up along the bowl. From this comes its name of sĕicha, or “flat pipe.” When exposed on such occasions, the devotees sit around the fire in a circle, when the bundle is opened upon the ground so that all may see the sacred objects. The medicine keeper then lights the pipe and after taking one or two whiffs passes it to the one next him, who takes a single whiff and passes it on to the next. It thus goes sunwise (?) around the circle. In taking the sĕicha the devotees do not grasp the stem, as when smoking on other occasions, but receive it upon the outstretched palm of the right hand, smoke, and pass it on around the circle. The flanges along the side of the pipe allow it to rest flat upon the hand. After all have smoked, the priest recites the genesis myth of the origin of the land, and the manner in which the pipe and the corn were given to their ancestors. The corresponding myth of the Cheyenne occupies “four smokes” (i. e., four consecutive nights) in the delivery, but I am unable to state whether or not this is the case with the Arapaho. So sacred is this tradition held that no one but the priest of the pipe dares to recite it, for fear of divine punishment should the slightest error be made in the narration. At the close of the recital the devotees send up their prayers for the blessings of which they stand most in need, after which the priest again carefully wraps up the sacred objects in the skins. Before leaving the lodge the worshipers cover the bundle with their offerings of blankets or other valuables, which are taken by the medicine keeper as his fee.

When encamped in the tribal circle, the sacred pipe and its keeper occupied a large tipi, reserved especially for this purpose, which was set up within the circle and near its western line, directly opposite the doorway on the east. In the center of the circle, between the doorway and the sacred tipi, was erected the sweat-house of the Chi′nachichinĕ′na or old men of the highest degree of the warrior order. The taking down of the sacred tipi by the attendants of the pipe keeper was the signal for moving camp, and no other tipi was allowed to be taken down before it. When on the march, the pipe keeper proceeded on foot—never on horse—carrying the sacred bundle upon his back and attended by a retinue of guards. As a matter of course, the sacred pipe was not carried by war parties or on other expeditions requiring celerity of movement. Of late years the rules have so far relaxed that its present guardian sometimes rides on horseback while carrying the pipe, but even then he carries the bundle upon his own back instead of upon the saddle. He never rides in a wagon with it. Since the tribe is permanently divided under the modern reservation system, individuals or small parties of the southern Arapaho frequently make the long journey by railroad and stage to the reservation in Wyoming in order to see and pray over the sĕicha, as it is impossible, on account of the ceremonial regulations, for the keeper to bring it down to them in the south.

So far as known, only one white man, Mr J. Roberts, formerly superintendent of the Arapaho school in Wyoming, has ever seen the sacred pipe, which was shown to him on one occasion by Weasel Bear as a special mark of gratitude in return for some kindness. After having spent several months among the southern Arapaho, from whom I learned the songs of the pipe with much as to its sacred history, I visited the messiah in Nevada and then went to the northern Arapaho in Wyoming, with great hope of seeing the sĕicha and hearing the tradition in full. On the strength of my intimate acquaintance with their relatives in the south and with their great messiah in the west, the chiefs and head-men were favorable to my purpose and encouraged me to hope, but on going out to the camp in the mountains, where nearly the whole tribe was then assembled cutting wood, my hopes were dashed to the ground the first night by hearing the old priest, Weasel Bear, making the public announcement in a loud voice throughout the camp that a white man was among them to learn about their sacred things, but that these belonged to the religion of the Indian and a white man had no business to ask about them. The chief and those who had been delegates to the messiah came in soon after to the tipi where I was stopping, to express their deep regret, but they were unable to change the resolution of Weasel Bear, and none of themselves would venture to repeat the tradition.

3. +Ate′bĕ tiăwu′nănu′+

Ate′bĕ tiăwu′nănu′, nä′nisa′nă, Ate′bĕ tiăwu′nănu′, nä′nisa′nă, Ni′athu′ă′, Ni′athu′ă′, Ni′binu′ ga′awa′ti′na, Ni′binu′ ga′awa′ti′na.

Translation

My children, when at first I liked the whites, My children, when at first I liked the whites, I gave them fruits, I gave them fruits.

This song referring to the whites was composed by Nawat or Left Hand, chief of the southern Arapaho, and can hardly be considered dangerous or treasonable in character. According to his statement, in his trance vision of the other world the father showed him extensive orchards, telling him that in the beginning all these things had been given to the whites, but that hereafter they would be given to his children, the Indians. Nia′tha, plural Nia′thuă, the Arapaho name for the whites, signifies literally, expert, skillful, or wise.

4. +A′bä′ni′hi′+

A′bä′ni′hi′, A′bä′ni′hi′, Ätichä′bi′näsänă, Ätichä′bi′näsänă, Chi′chita′nĕ, Chi′chita′nĕ.

Translation

My partner, my partner, Let us go out gambling, Let us go out gambling, At chi′chita′nĕ, at chi′chita′nĕ.

Chi′chita′nĕ is a favorite game of contest with the boys, in which the player, while holding in his hands a bow and an arrow ready to shoot, keeps in the hand which grasps the string a small wisp of grass bound with sinew. He lets this drop and tries to shoot it with the arrow before it touches the ground. The wisp is about the size of a man’s finger.

The song came from the north, and was suggested by a trance vision in which the dreamer saw his former boy friends playing this game in the spirit world.

5. +A′-nisûna′a′hu Ächĭshinĭ′qahi′na+

A′-nisûna′a′hu′, A′-nisûna′a′hu′, Ä′chĭshinĭ′qahi′na, Ä′chĭshinĭ′qahi′na, E′hihä′sina′kăwu′hu′nĭt, E′hihä′sina′kăwu′hu′nĭt.

Translation

My father, my father, While he was taking me around, While he was taking me around, He turned into a moose, He turned into a moose.

This song relates the trance experience of Waqui′si or “Ugly Face Woman.” In his vision of the spirit world he went into a large Arapaho camp, where he met his dead father, who took him around to the various tipis to meet others of his departed friends. While they were thus going about, a change came o’er the spirit of his dream, as so often happens in this fevered mental condition, and instead of his father he found a moose standing by his side. Such transformations are frequently noted in the Ghost-dance songs.

6. +E′yehe′! Wû′nayu′uhu′+

E′yehe′! Wû′nayu′uhu′— E′yehe′! Wû′nayu′uhu′— A′ga′nă′, A′ga′nă′.

Translation

E′yehe′! they are new— E′yehe′! they are new— The bed coverings, The bed coverings.

The composer of this song is a woman who, in her trance, was taken to a large camp where all the tipis were of clean new buffalo skins, and the beds and interior furniture were all in the same condition.

The bed of the prairie tribes is composed of slender willow rods, peeled, straightened with the teeth, laid side by side and fastened together into a sort of mat by means of buckskin or rawhide strings passed through holes at the ends of the rods. The bed is stretched upon a platform raised about a foot above the ground, and one end of the mat is raised up in hammock fashion by means of a tripod and buckskin hanger. The rods laid across the platform, forming the bed proper, are usually about 3½ or 4 feet long (the width of the bed), while those forming the upright part suspended from the tripod are shorter as they approach the top, where they are only about half that length. The bed is bordered with buckskin binding fringed and beaded, and the exposed rods are painted in bright colors. The hanging portion is distinct from the part resting upon the platform, and in some cases there is a hanger at each end of the bed. Over the platform portion are spread the buckskins and blankets, which form a couch by day and a bed by night. A pillow of buckskin, stuffed with buffalo hair and elaborately ornamented with beads or porcupine quills, is sometimes added. The bed is placed close up under the tipi. In the largest tipis there are usually three beds, one being opposite the doorway and the others on each side, the fire being built in a hole scooped out in the ground in the center of the lodge. They are used as seats during waking hours, while the ground, with a rawhide spread upon it, constitutes the only table at meal time (plate +CXXI+; figure 89). In going to bed there is no undressing, each person as he becomes sleepy simply stretching out and drawing a blanket over himself, head and all, while the other occupants of the tipi continue their talking, singing, or other business until they too lie down to pleasant dreams.

7. +Hi′sähi′hi+

Hi′sähi′hi, Hi′sähi′hi, Ha′nä ta′wŭnä ga′awă′ha, Ha′nä ta′wŭnä ga′awă′ha. A′tanä′tähinä′na, A′tanä′tähinä′na.

Translation

My partner! My partner! Strike the ball hard— Strike the ball hard. I want to win, I want to win.

This song refers to the woman’s game of gû‛gă′hawa′t or “shinny,” played with curved sticks and a ball like a baseball, called gaawă′ha, made of (buffalo) hair and covered with buckskin (figure 90). Two stakes are set up as goals at either end of the ground, and the object of each party is to drive the ball through the goals of the other. Each inning is a game. The song was composed by a woman, who met her former girl comrade in the spirit world and played this game with her against an opposing party.

8. +Ä′-nani′ni′bi′nä′si waku′na+

Nä′nisa′na, Nä′nisa′na, Ä′-nani′ni′bi′nä′si waku′na, Ä′-nani′ni′bi′nä′si waku′na. Nä′nisa′na, Nä′nisa′na.

Translation

My children, my children, The wind makes the head-feathers sing— The wind makes the head-feathers sing. My children, my children.

By the wakuna or head-feathers (figure 91) is meant the two crow feathers mounted on a short stick and worn on the head by the leaders of the dance, as already described.

9. +He′! Näne′th bi′shiqa′wă+

[Music]

He′! näne′th bi′shiqa′wă, He′! näne′th bi′shiqa′wă, Nä′nisa′na, Nä′nisa′na, Nä′ina′ha′tdä′bä′naq, Nä′ina′ha′tdä′bä′naq.

Translation

He! When I met him approaching— He! When I met him approaching— My children, my children— I then saw the multitude plainly, I then saw the multitude plainly.

This song was brought from the north to the southern Arapaho by Sitting Bull. It refers to the trance vision of a dancer, who saw the messiah advancing at the head of all the spirit army. It is an old favorite, and is sung with vigor and animation.

10. +Häna′na′wunănu ni′tawu′na′na′+

Nä′nisa′na, nä′nisa′na, Häna′na′wunănu ni′tawu′na′na′, Häna′na′wunănu ni′tawu′na′na′, Di′chin niănita′wa′thi, Di′chin niănita′wa′thi. Nithi′na hesûna′nĭn, Nithi′na hesûna′nĭn.

Translation

My children, my children, I take pity on those who have been taught, I take pity on those who have been taught, Because they push on hard, Because they push on hard. Says our father, Says our father.

This is a message from the messiah to persevere in the dance. In the expressive idiom of the prairie tribes, as also in the sign language, the term for persevering signifies to “push hard.”

11. +A-ni′qu wa′wanä′nibä′tia′+

A-ni′qu wa′wanä′nibä′tia′—Hi′ni′ni′! A-ni′qu wa′wanä′nibä′tia′—Hi′ni′ni′! Hi′niqa′agayetu′sa, Hi′niqa′agayetu′sa, Hi′ni ni′nitu′sa nibä′tia—Hi′ni′ni′! Hi′ni ni′nitu′sa nibä′tia—Hi′ni′ni′!

Translation

Father, now I am singing it—Hi′ni′ni! Father, now I am singing it—Hi′ni′ni! That loudest song of all, That loudest song of all— That resounding song—Hi′ni′ni! That resounding song—Hi′ni′ni!

This is another of the old favorites. The rolling effect of the vocalic Arapaho syllables renders it particularly sonorous when sung by a full chorus. Ni′qa or a-ni′qu, “father,” is a term of reverential affection, about equivalent to “our father” in the Lord’s prayer. The ordinary word is hesûna′nin, from nisû′na, “my father.”

12. +Ha′yana′-usi′ya′+

Ha′yana′-usi′ya′! Ha′yana′-usi′ya′! Bi′ga ta′cha′wagu′na, Bi′ga ta′cha′wagu′na.

Translation

How bright is the moonlight! How bright is the moonlight! Tonight as I ride with my load of buffalo beef, Tonight as I ride with my load of buffalo beef.

The author of this song, on meeting his friends in the spirit world, found them preparing to go on a great buffalo hunt, the prairies of the new earth being covered with the countless thousands of buffalo that have been swept from the plains since the advent of the white man. They returned to camp at night, under the full moonlight, with their ponies loaded down with fresh beef. There is something peculiarly touching in this dream of the old life—this Indian heaven where—

“In meadows wet with moistening dews, In garments for the chase arrayed, The hunter still the deer pursues— The hunter and the deer a shade.”

13. +Ha′ti ni′bät—E′he′eye′+

Ha′ti ni′bät—E′he′eye′! Ha′ti ni′bät—E′he′eye′! Nä′nibä′tawa′, Nä′nibä′tawa′, He′yäya′ahe′ye! He′yäya′ahe′ye!

Translation

The cottonwood song—E′he′eye′! The cottonwood song—E′he′eye′! I am singing it, I am singing it, _He′yäya′ahe′ye! He′yäya′ahe′ye!_

The cottonwood (Populus monilifera) is the most characteristic tree of the plains and of the arid region between the Rockies and the Sierras. It is a species of poplar and takes its name from the white downy blossom fronds, resembling cotton, which come out upon it in the spring. The cottonwood and a species of stunted oak, with the mesquite in the south, are almost the only trees to be found upon the great plains extending from the Saskatchewan southward into Texas. As it never grows out upon the open, but always close along the borders of the few streams, it is an unfailing indication of water either on or near the surface, in a region well-nigh waterless. Between the bark and the wood there is a sweet milky juice of which the Indians are very fond—as one who had been educated in the east said, “It is their ice cream”—and they frequently strip off the bark and scrape the trunk in order to procure it. Horses also are fond of this sweet juice, and in seasons when the grass has been burned off or is otherwise scarce, the Indian ponies sometimes resort to the small twigs and bark of the cottonwood to sustain life. In extreme cases their owners have sometimes been driven to the same shift. In winter the camps of the prairie tribes are removed from the open prairie to the shelter of the cottonwood timber along the streams. The tree is held almost sacred, and the sun-dance lodge is usually or always constructed of cottonwood saplings.

14. +Eyehe′! A′nie′sa′na+

Eyehe′! A′nie′sa′na′, Eyehe′! A′nie′sa′na′, He′ee′ä′ehe′yuhe′yu! He′ee′ä′ehe′yuhe′yu! A′-baha′ ni′esa′na′, A′-baha′ ni′esa′na′.

Translation

Eyehe′! The young birds, Eyehe′! The young birds, _He′ee′ä′ehe′yuhe′yu! He′ee′ä′ehe′yuhe′yu!_ The young Thunderbirds, The young Thunderbirds.

Among the Algonquian tribes of the east, the Sioux, Cheyenne, Arapaho, Kiowa, Comanche, and prairie tribes generally, as well as among those of the northwest coast and some parts of Mexico, thunder and lightning are produced by a great bird, whose shadow is the thunder cloud, whose flapping wings make the sound of thunder, and whose flashing eyes rapidly opening or closing send forth the lightning. Among some tribes of the northwest this being is not a bird, but a giant who puts on a dress of bird skin with head, wings, and all complete, by means of which he flies through the air when in search of his prey. The myth is not found among the Iroquois or the Cherokee, or, perhaps, among the Muskhogean tribes.

The Thunderbird usually has his dwelling on some high mountain or rocky elevation of difficult access. Within the territory of the myth several places are thus designated as the Thunder’s Nest. Thunder bay of Lake Huron, in lower Michigan, derives its name in this way. Such a place, known to the Sioux as Waqkiñ′a-oye′, “The Thunder’s Nest,” is within the old territory of the Sisseton Sioux in eastern South Dakota in the neighborhood of Big Stone lake. At another place, near the summit of the Coteau des Prairies, in eastern South Dakota, a number of large round bowlders are pointed out as the eggs of the Thunderbird. According to the Comanche there is a place on upper Red river where the Thunderbird once alighted on the ground, the spot being still identified by the fact that the grass remains burned off over a space having the outline of a large bird with outstretched wings. The same people tell how a hunter once shot and wounded a large bird which fell to the ground. Being afraid to attack it alone on account of its size, he returned to camp for help, but on again approaching the spot the hunters heard the thunder rolling and saw flashes of lightning shooting out from the ravine where the bird lay wounded. On coming nearer, the lightning blinded them so that they could not see the bird, and one flash struck and killed a hunter. His frightened companions then fled back to camp, for they knew it was the Thunderbird.

With both Cheyenne and Arapaho the thunder (ba′a′) is a large bird, with a brood of smaller ones, and carries in its talons a number of arrows with which it strikes the victim of lightning. For this reason they call the eagle on our coins baa. When it thunders, they say ba′a′ nänitŭ′hut, “the thunder calls.” In Indian pictography the Thunderbird is figured with zigzag lines running out from its heart to represent the lightning. A small figure of it (represented in figure 92), cut from rawhide and ornamented with beads, is frequently worn on the heads of the dancers.

15. +A′he′sûna′nini năya′qûti′hi+

A′he′sûna′nini năya′qûti′hi, A′he′sûna′nini năya′qûti′hi, Hä′ni′nihiga′hŭna′, Hä′ni′nihiga′hŭna′, He′sûna′nin hä′ni na′ha′waŭ′. He′sûna′nin hä′ni na′ha′waŭ′.

Translation

Our father, the Whirlwind, Our father, the Whirlwind— By its aid I am running swiftly, By its aid I am running swiftly, By which means I saw our father, By which means I saw our father.

The idea expressed in this song is that the dreamer “rides the whirlwind” in order sooner to meet the messiah and the spirit hosts. Father or grandfather are terms of reverence and affection, applied to anything held sacred or awful.

16. +A′he′sûna′nini năya′qûti′+

A′he′sûna′nini năya′qûti′, A′he′sûna′nini năya′qûti′, Wa′wă chä′niĭ′nagu′nĭti hu′na, Wa′wă chä′niĭ′nagu′nĭti hu′na.

Translation

Our father, the Whirlwind, Our father, the Whirlwind, Now wears the headdress of crow feathers, Now wears the headdress of crow feathers.

In this song the Whirlwind, personified, wears on his head the two crow feathers, by which the dancers are to be borne upward to the new spirit world.

17. +Ninaä′niahu′na+

Ninaä′niahu′na, Ninaä′niahu′na Bi′taa′wu hä′näi′säĭ, Bi′taa′wu hä′näi′säĭ, Hi′năä′thi nä′niwu′hună, Hi′năä′thi nä′niwu′hună.

Translation

I circle around— I circle around The boundaries of the earth, The boundaries of the earth— Wearing the long wing feathers as I fly, Wearing the long wing feathers as I fly.

This song probably refers to the Thunderbird. There is an energetic swing to the tune that makes it a favorite. In Indian belief the earth is a circular disk, usually surrounded on all sides by water, and the sky is a solid concave hemisphere coming down at the horizon to the level of the earth. In Cherokee and other Indian myth the sky is continually lifting up and coming down again to the earth, like the upper blade of the scissors. The sun, which lives upon the outside of this hemisphere, comes through from the east in the morning while there is a momentary opening between the earth and the edge of the sky, climbs along upon the underside of the sky from east to west, and goes out at the western horizon in the evening, to return during the night to its starting point in the east.

18. +Ha′nahawu′nĕn bĕni′ni′na+

Ha′nahawu′nĕn bĕni′ni′na, Ha′nahawu′nĕn bĕni′ni′na, Hina′wûn ga′na′ni′na, Hina′wûn ga′na′ni′na.

Translation

The Hanahawunĕn gave to me, The Hanahawunĕn gave to me, His paint—He made me clean, His paint—He made me clean.

The author of this song met in the spirit world a man of the now extinct Arapaho band of the Hanahawunĕna, who washed the face of the visitor and then painted him afresh with some of the old-time mineral paint of the Indians. In accord with the Indian belief, all the extinct and forgotten tribes have now their home in the world of shades.

19. +Ate′be′tana′-ise′ti he′sûna′nini′+

Ate′be′tana′-ise′ti he′sûna′nini′—Ahe′eye′! Ate′be′tana′-ise′ti he′sûna′nini′—Ahe′eye′! Na′waa′tănû′, Na′waa′tănû, Danatinĕnawaŭ, Nita-isa, nita-isa, He′yahe′eỹe′!

Translation

When first our father came—Ahe′eye′! When first our father came—Ahe′eye′! I prayed to him, I prayed to him— My relative, my relative— He′yahe′eỹe′!

This song was composed by Paul Boynton (Bääku′ni, “Red Feather”), a Carlisle student, after having been in a trance. His brother had died some time before, and being told by the Indians that he might be able to see and talk with him by joining the dance, Paul went to Sitting Bull, the leader of the dance, at the next gathering, and asked him to help him to see his dead brother. The result was that he was hypnotized by Sitting Bull, fell to the ground in a trance, and saw his brother. While talking with him, however, he suddenly awoke, much to his regret, probably from some one of the dancers having touched against him as he lay upon the ground. According to his statement, the words were spoken by him in his sleep after coming from the dance and were overheard by some companions who questioned him about it in the morning, when he told his experience and put the words into a song. The “father” here referred to is Sitting Bull, the great apostle of the Arapaho Ghost dance. It was from Paul’s statement, intelligently told in good English before I had yet seen the dance, that I was first led to suspect that hypnotism was the secret of the trances.

20. +A-ni′änĕ′thăhi′nani′na nisa′na+

A-ni′änĕ′thăhi′nani′na nisa′na, A-ni′änĕ′thăhi′nani′na nisa′na. He′chä′ na′hăbi′na, He′chä′ na′hăbi′na, Hewa-u′sa häthi′na, Hewa-u′sa häthi′na.

Translation

My father did not recognize me (at first), My father did not recognize me (at first). When again he saw me, When again he saw me, He said, “You are the offspring of a crow,” He said, “You are the offspring of a crow.”

This song was composed by Sitting Bull, the Arapaho apostle of the dance, and relates his own experience in the trance, in which he met his father, who had died years before. The expression, “You are the child of a crow,” may refer to his own sacred character as an apostle, the crow being regarded as the messenger from the spirit world.

21. +Ni′-athu′-a-u′ a′hakä′nith′iĭ+

I′yehe′! anä′nisa′nă′—Uhi′yeye′heye′! I′yehe′! anä′nisa′nă′—Uhi′yeye′heye′! I′yehe′! ha′dawn′hana′—Eye′ăe′yuhe′yu! I′yehe′! ha′dawn′hana′—Eye′ăe′yuhe′yu! Ni′athu′-a-u′ a′hakä′nith′iĭ—Ahe′yuhe′yu!

Translation

I′yehe′! my children—Uhi′yeye′heye′! I′yehe′! my children—Uhi′yeye′heye′! I′yehe′! we have rendered them desolate—Eye′ăe′yuhe′yu! I′yehe′! we have rendered them desolate—Eye′ăe′yuhe′yu! The whites are crazy—Ahe′yuhe′yu!

In this song the father tells his children of the desolation, in consequence of their folly and injustice, that would come upon the whites when they will be left alone upon the old world, while the Indians will be taken up to the new earth to live in happiness forever.

22. +Na′ha′ta bitaa′wu+

Nä′nisa′nă, nä′nisa′nă, Na′ha′ta bi′taa′wu hätnaa′waa′-u′hu′, Na′ha′ta bi′taa′wu hätnaa′waa′-u′hu′. Häthi′na hi′nisû′na-hu′, Häthi′na hi′nisû′na-hu′.

Translation

My children, my children, Look! the earth is about to move, Look! the earth is about to move. My father tells me so, My father tells me so.

In this song the dreamer tells his friends, on the authority of the messiah, that the predicted spiritual new earth is about to start to come over and cover up this old world. It was also taught, as appears from the messiah’s letter, that at the moment of contact this world would tremble as in an earthquake.

23. +Ahe′sûna′nini Ächiqa′hă′wa-ü′+

Ahe′sûna′nini, ahe′sûna′nini, Ächiqa′hă′wa-ŭ′, Ächiqa′hă′wa-ŭ′, E′hihä′sĭni′ĕhi′nĭt, E′hihä′sĭni′ĕhi′nĭt.

Translation

My father, my father— I am looking at him, I am looking at him. He is beginning to turn into a bird, He is beginning to turn into a bird.

In this, as in the fifth Arapaho song, we have a transformation. According to the story of the author, his father is transformed into a bird even while he looks at him. The song is sung in quick time to hasten the trance.

24. +Ha′ănake′i+

Ha′ănake′i, ha′ănake′i, Dä′nasa′ku′tăwa′, Dä′nasa′ku′tăwa′, He′sûna′nin hä′ni na′ha′waŭ′, He′sûna′nin hä′ni na′ha′waŭ′.

Translation

The rock, the rock, I am standing upon it, I am standing upon it. By its means I saw our father, By its means I saw our father.

This is one of the old songs now obsolete, and its meaning is not clear. It may mean simply that the author of it climbed a rock in order to be able to see farther, but it is more likely that it contains some mythic reference.

25. +Wa′wa′na′danä′diă′+

Nä′nisa′naăŭ′, nä′nisa′naăŭ′, Wa′wa′na′danä′diă′. Wa′wa′na′danä′diă′, Nänisa′na, nänisa′na.

Translation

My children, my children, I am about to hum, I am about to hum. My children, my children.

The author of this song saw her children in the other world playing with the hätiku′tha, or hummer. On going home after awaking from her trance, she made the toy and carried it with her to the next dance and twirled it in the air while singing the song. The hätiku′tha, or hummer, is used by the boys of the prairie tribes as our boys use the “cut-water,” a circular tin disk, suspended on two strings passed through holes in the middle, and set in rapid revolution, so as to produce a humming sound, by alternately twisting the strings upon each other and allowing them to untwist again. One of these which I examined consists of a bone from a buffalo hoof, painted in different colors, with four buckskin strings tied around the middle and running out on each side and fastened at each end to a small peg, so as to be more firmly grasped by the fingers. It was carried in the dance in 1890 by an old Arapaho named Tall Bear, who had had it in his possession for twenty years. Another specimen, shown in figure 93, a, now in possession of the National Museum, is similar in construction, but with only one string on each side.

A kindred toy—it can hardly be considered a musical instrument—is that known among the whites as the “bull-roarer.” It is found among most of the western tribes, as well as among our own children and primitive peoples all over the world. It is usually a simple flat piece of wood, about 6 inches long, sometimes notched on the edges and fancifully painted, attached to a sinew or buckskin string of convenient length. It is held in one hand, and when twirled rapidly in the air produces a sound not unlike the roaring of a bull or of distant thunder. With most tribes it is simply a child’s toy, but among the Hopi, according to Fewkes, and the Apache, according to Bourke, it has a sacred use to assist the prayers of the medicine-man in bringing on the storm clouds and the rain.

26. +A-te′bĕ′ dii′nĕtita′niĕg+

A-te′bĕ′ dii′nĕtita′niĕg—I′yehe′eye′! A-te′bĕ′ dii′nĕtita′niĕg—I′yehe′eye′! Nii′te′gu be′na nĕ′chäi′hit—I′yehe′eye′! Bi′taa′wuu—I′yahe′eye′! Nii′te′gu be′na nĕ′chäi′hit—I′yehe′eye′! Bi′taa′wuu—I′yahe′eye′! De′tawu′ni′na ni′sa′na′—Ahe′eye′-he′eye′! De′tawu′ni′na ni′sa′na′—Ahe′eye′-he′eye′!

Translation

At the beginning of human existence—I′yehe′eye′! At the beginning of human existence—I′yehe′eye′! It was the turtle who gave this grateful gift to me— The earth—I′yehe′eye′! It was the turtle who gave this grateful gift to me— The earth—I′yehe′eye′! (Thus) my father told me—Ahe′eye′-he′eye′! (Thus) my father told me—Ahe′eye′-he′eye′!

In the mythology of many primitive nations, from the ancient Hindu to our own Indian tribes, the turtle or tortoise is the supporter of the earth, the Atlas on whose back rests the burden of the whole living universe. A reason for this is found in the amphibious character of the turtle, which renders it equally at home on land and in the water, and in its peculiar shape, which was held to be typical of the world, the world itself being conceived as a huge turtle swimming in a limitless ocean, the dome of the sky being its upper shell, and the flat surface of the earth being the bony breastplate of the animal, while inclosed between them was the living body, the human, animal, and vegetal creation. In Hindu mythology, when the gods are ready to destroy mankind, the turtle will grow weary and sink under his load and then the waters will rise and a deluge will overwhelm the earth. (Fiske.)

The belief in the turtle as the upholder of the earth was common to all the Algonquian tribes, to which belong the Arapaho and Cheyenne, and to the northern Iroquoian tribes. Earthquakes were caused by his shifting his position from time to time. In their pictographs the turtle was frequently the symbol of the earth, and in their prayers it was sometimes addressed as mother. The most honored clan was the Turtle clan; the most sacred spot in the Algonquian territory was Mackinaw, the “Island of the Great Turtle;” the favorite medicine bowl of their doctors is the shell of a turtle; the turtle is pictured on the ghost shirts of the Arapaho, and farther south in Oklahoma it is the recognized stock brand by which it is known that a horse or cow belongs to one of the historic Delaware tribe.

27. +Tahu′na′änä′nia′huna+

Nä′nisa′na, nä′nisa′na, Nä′näni′na ta′hu′na′änä′nia′hună′, Tahu′na′änä′nia′huna, Nä′nisa′na, nä′nisa′na, Nä′näni′na ta′hĕti′nia′hună′, Ta′hĕti′nia′hună′.

Translation

My children, my children, It is I who make the thunder as I circle about— The thunder as I circle about. My children, my children, It is I who make the loud thunder as I circle about— The loud thunder as I circle about.

This song evidently refers to the Thunderbird. It is one of the old favorites from the north, and is sung to a sprightly tune in quick time. It differs from the others in having only a part instead of all of the line repeated.

28. +Ani′qu ne′chawu′nani′+

[Music]

Ani′qu ne′chawu′nani′, Ani′qu ne′chawu′nani′; Awa′wa biqăna′kaye′na, Awa′wa biqăna′kaye′na; Iyahu′h ni′bithi′ti, Iyahu′h ni′bithi′ti.

Translation

Father, have pity on me, Father, have pity on me; I am crying for thirst, I am crying for thirst; All is gone—I have nothing to eat, All is gone—I have nothing to eat.

This is the most pathetic of the Ghost-dance songs. It is sung to a plaintive tune, sometimes with tears rolling down the cheeks of the dancers as the words would bring up thoughts of their present miserable and dependent condition. It may be considered the Indian paraphrase of the Lord’s prayer.

29. +A-ni′niha′niahu′na+

A-ni′niha′niahu′na, A-ni′niha′niahu′na, Yeni′s-iti′na ku′niahu′na, Yeni′s-iti′na ku′niahu′na, Hi′chäbä′i—He′e′e′! Hi′chäbä′i—He′e′e′!

Translation

I fly around yellow, I fly around yellow, I fly with the wild rose on my head, I fly with the wild rose on my head, On high—He′e′e′! On high—He′e′e′!

The meaning of this song is not clear. It may refer to the Thunderbird or to the Crow, the sacred bird of the Ghost dance. The ye′nis or wild rose is much esteemed among the prairie tribes for its red seed berries, which are pounded into a paste and dried for food. It is frequently mentioned in the ghost songs, and is sometimes pictured on the ghost shirts. Although rather insipid, the berries possess nutritive qualities. They are gathered in winter, and are sometimes eaten raw, but more generally are first boiled and strained to get rid of the seeds. This dough-like substance is sometimes mixed with marrow from broken bones and pasted around sticks and thus roasted before the fire. It is never packed away for future use. The Cherokee call the same plant by a name which means “rabbit food,” on account of this animal’s fondness for the berries.

30. +Niha′nata′yeche′ti+

He′yoho′ho′! He′yoho′ho′! Niha′nata′yeche′ti, na′naga′qanĕ′tihi, Wa′waga′thänŭhu, Wa′waga′thänŭhu, Wa′wa ne′hawa′wŭna′nahu′, Wa′wa ne′hawa′wŭna′nahu′. He′yoho′ho′! He′yoho′ho′!

Translation

He′yoho′ho′! He′yoho′ho′! The yellow-hide, the white-skin (man). I have now put him aside— I have now put him aside— I have no more sympathy with him, I have no more sympathy with him. He′yoho′ho′! He′yoho′ho′!

This is another song about the whites, who are spoken of as “yellow hides” or “white skins.” The proper Arapaho name for a white man is Nia′tha, “skillful.” A great many names are applied to the whites by the different Indian tribes. By the Comanche, Shoshoni, and Paiute they are called Tai′vo, “easterners;” by the Hopi, of the same stock as the three tribes mentioned, they are known as Paha′na, “eastern water people;” by the Kiowa they are called Be′dălpago, “hairy mouths,” or Ta‛ka′-i, “standing ears.” It is very doubtful if the “pale face” of romance ever existed in the Indian mind.

31. +A-bää′thina′hu+

A-bää′thina′hu, a-bää′thina′hu, Ha′tnithi′aku′ta′na, Ha′tnithi′aku′ta′na, Ha′-bätä′nani′hi, Ha′-bätä′nani′hi. Ha′tnithi′aku′ta′na, Ha′tnithi′aku′ta′na.

Translation

The cedar tree, the cedar tree, We have it in the center, We have it in the center When we dance, When we dance. We have it in the center, We have it in the center.

The Kiowa, the Sioux, and perhaps some other tribes performed the Ghost dance around a tree set up in the center of the circle. With the Kiowa this tree was a cedar, and such was probably the case with the other tribes, whenever a cedar could be obtained, as it is always a sacred tree in Indian belief and ceremonial. The southern Arapaho and Cheyenne never had a tree in connection with the Ghost dance, so that this song could not have originated among them. The cedar is held sacred for its evergreen foliage, its fragrant smell, its red heart wood, and the durable character of its timber. On account of its fine grain, and enduring qualities the prairie tribes make their tipi poles of its wood, which will not warp through heat or moisture. Their flageolets or flutes are also made of cedar, and in the mescal and other ceremonies its dried and crumbled foliage is thrown upon the fire as incense. In Cherokee and Yuchi myth the red color of the wood comes from the blood of a wizard who was killed and decapitated by a hero, and whose head was hung in the top of several trees in succession, but continued to live until, by the advice of a medicine-man, the people hung it in the topmost branches of a cedar tree, where it finally died. The blood of the severed head trickled down the trunk of the tree and thus the wood was stained.

32. +Wa′wa nû′nanû′naku′ti+

Nä′nisa′na, nä′nisa′na, Wa′wa nû′nanû′naku′ti waku′hu, Wa′wa nû′nanû′naku′ti waku′hu. Hi′yu nä′nii′bä′-i, Hi′yu nä′nii′bä′-i. Hä′tä-i′naku′ni häthi′na nisû′nahu, Hä′tä-i′naku′ni häthi′na nisû′nahu.

Translation

My children, my children, Now I am waving an eagle feather, Now I am waving an eagle feather. Here is a spotted feather for you, Here is a spotted feather for you. You may have it, said my father, You may have it, said my father.

While singing this song the author of it waved in his right hand an eagle feather prepared for wearing in the hair, while he carried a spotted hawk feather in the other hand. In his trance vision he had received such a spotted feather from the messiah.

33. +A-ni′qana′ga+

A-ni′qana′ga, A-ni′qana′ga, Ha′tăni′i′na′danĕ′na, Ha′tăni′i′na′danĕ′na.

Translation

There is a solitary bull, There is a solitary bull— I am going to use him to “make medicine,” I am going to use him to “make medicine.”

From the buffalo they had food, fuel, dress, shelter, and domestic furniture, shields for defense, points for their arrows, and strings for their bows. As the old Spanish chronicles of Coronado put it: “To be short, they make so many things of them as they have need of, or as many as suffice them in the use of this life.”

Among Indians the professions of medicine and religion are inseparable. The doctor is always a priest, and the priest is always a doctor. Hence, to the whites in the Indian country the Indian priest-doctor has come to be known as the “medicine-man,” and anything sacred, mysterious, or of wonderful power or efficacy in Indian life or belief is designated as “medicine,” this term being the nearest equivalent of the aboriginal expression in the various languages. To “make medicine” is to perform some sacred ceremony, from the curing of a sick child to the consecration of the sun-dance lodge. Among the prairie tribes the great annual tribal ceremony was commonly known as the “medicine dance,” and the special guardian deity of every warrior was spoken of as his “medicine.”

The buffalo was to the nomad hunters of the plains what corn was to the more sedentary tribes of the east and south—the living, visible symbol of their support and existence; the greatest gift of a higher being to his children. Something of the buffalo entered into every important ceremony. In the medicine dance—or sun dance, as it is frequently called—the head and skin of a buffalo hung from the center pole of the lodge, and in the fearful torture that accompanied this dance among some tribes, the dancers dragged around the circle buffalo skulls tied to ropes which were fastened to skewers driven through holes cut in their bodies and limbs. A buffalo skull is placed in front of the sacred sweat-lodge, and on the battlefield of Wounded Knee I have seen buffalo skulls and plates of dried meat placed at the head of the graves. The buffalo was the sign of the Creator on earth as the sun was his glorious manifestation in the heavens. The hair of the buffalo was an important element in the preparation of “medicine,” whether for war, hunting, love, or medicine proper, and for such purpose the Indian generally selected a tuft taken from the breast close under the shoulder of the animal. When the Kiowa, Comanche, and Apache delegates visited Washington in the spring of 1894, they made an earnest and successful request for some buffalo hair from the animals in the Zoological Park, together with some branches from the cedars in the grounds of the Agricultural Department, to take home with them for use in their sacred ceremonies.

34. +A-nĕä′thibiwă′hană+

A′-nĕä′thibiwă′hană, A′-nĕä′thibiwă′hană— Thi′äya′nĕ, Thi′äya′nĕ.

Translation

The place where crying begins, The place where crying begins— The thi′äya, The thi′äya.

This song refers to the sweat-lodge already described in treating of the Ghost dance among the Sioux. In preparing the sweat-lodge a small hole, perhaps a foot deep, is dug out in the center of the floor space, to serve as a receptacle for the heated stones over which the water is poured to produce the steam. The earth thus dug out is piled in a small hillock a few feet in front of the entrance to the sweat-lodge, which always faces the east. This small mound is called thi′äya in the Arapaho language, the same name being also applied to a memorial stone heap or to a stone monument. It is always surmounted by a buffalo skull, or in these days by the skull of a steer, placed so as to face the doorway of the lodge. The thi′äya is mentioned in several of the Ghost-dance songs, and usually, as here, in connection with crying or lamentation, as though the sight of these things in the trance vision brings up sad recollections.

35. +Thi′äya he′năă′awă′+

Thi′äya′ he′năă′awă′— Thi′äya′ he′năă′awă′, Nä′hibiwa′huna′, Nä′hibiwa′huna′.

Translation

When I see the thi′äya— When I see the thi′äya, Then I begin to lament, Then I begin to lament.

This song refers to a trance vision in which the dreamer saw a sweat-lodge, with the thi′äya, or mound, as described in the preceding song.

36. +A-hu′hu ha′geni′sti′ti ba′hu+

A-hu′hu ha′geni′sti′ti ba′hu, Ha′geni′sti′ti ba′hu. Hä′nisti′ti, Hä′nisti′ti. Hi′nisa′nă, Hi′nisa′nă— Ne′a-i′qaha′ti, Ne′a-i′qaha′ti.

Translation

The crow is making a road, He is making a road. He has finished it, He has finished it. His children, His children— Then he collected them, Then he collected them (i. e., on the farther side).

The crow (ho) is the sacred bird of the Ghost dance, being revered as the messenger from the spirit world because its color is symbolic of death and the shadow land. The raven, which is practically a larger crow, and which lives in the mountains, but occasionally comes down into the plains, is also held sacred and regarded as a bringer of omens by the prairie tribes, as well as by the Tlinkit and others of the northwest coast and by the Cherokee in the east. The crow is depicted on the shirts, leggings, and moccasins of the Ghost dancers, and its feathers are worn on their heads, and whenever it is possible to kill one, the skin is stuffed as in life and carried in the dance, as shown in the picture of Black Coyote (plate +CV+). At one time the dancers in Left Hand’s camp had a crow which it was claimed had the power of speech and prophetic utterance, and its hoarse inarticulate cries were interpreted as inspired messages from the spirit world. Unfortunately the bird did not thrive in confinement, and soon took its departure for the land of spirits, leaving the Arapaho once more dependent on the guidance of the trance revelations. The eagle, the magpie, and the sage-hen are also sacred in the Ghost dance, the first being held in veneration by Indians, as well as by other peoples throughout the world, while the magpie and the sage-hen are revered for their connection with the country of the messiah and the mythology of his tribe.

The crow was probably held sacred by all the tribes of the Algonquian race. Roger Williams, speaking of the New England tribes, says that although the crows sometimes did damage to the corn, yet hardly one Indian in a hundred would kill one, because it was their tradition that this bird had brought them their first grain and vegetables, carrying a grain of corn in one ear and a bean in the other, from the field of their great god Cautantouwit in Sowwani′u, the southwest, the happy spirit world where dwelt the gods and the souls of the great and good. The souls of the wicked were not permitted to enter this elysium after death, but were doomed to wander without rest or home. (Williams, Key into the Language of America, 1643.)

In Arapaho belief, the spirit world is in the west, not on the same level with this earth of ours, but higher up, and separated also from it by a body of water. In their statement of the Ghost-dance mythology referred to in this song, the crow, as the messenger and leader of the spirits who had gone before, collected their armies on the other side and advanced at their head to the hither limit of the shadow land. Then, looking over, they saw far below them a sea, and far out beyond it toward the east was the boundary of the earth, where lived the friends they were marching to rejoin. Taking up a pebble in his beak, the crow then dropped it into the water and it became a mountain towering up to the land of the dead. Down its rocky slope he brought his army until they halted at the edge of the water. Then, taking some dust in his bill, the crow flew out and dropped it into the water as he flew, and it became a solid arm of land stretching from the spirit world to the earth. He returned and flew out again, this time with some blades of grass, which he dropped upon the land thus made, and at once it was covered with a green sod. Again he returned, and again flew out, this time with some twigs in his bill, and dropping these also upon the new land, at once it was covered with a forest of trees. Again he flew back to the base of the mountain, and is now, for the fourth time, coming on at the head of all the countless spirit host which has already passed over the sea and is marshaling on the western boundary of the earth.

37. +Bi′taa′wu hu′hu′+

Bi′taa′wu hu′hu′, Bi′taa′wu hu′hu′— Nû′nagûna′-ua′ti hu′hu′, Nû′nagûna′-ua′ti hu′hu′— A′hene′heni′ă′ă′! A′he′yene′hene′!

Translation

The earth—the crow, The earth—the crow— The crow brought it with him, The crow brought it with him— A′hene′heni′ă′ă′! A′he′yene′hene′!

The reference in this song is explained under the song immediately preceding.

38. +Ni′nini′tubi′na hu′hu′—I+

Ni′nini′tubi′na hu′hu′, Ni′nini′tubi′na hu′hu′. Nana′thina′ni hu′hu′, Nana′thina′ni hu′hu′. Ni′nita′naû, Ni′nita′naû.

Translation

The crow has called me, The crow has called me. When the crow came for me, When the crow came for me, I heard him, I heard him.

The reference in this song is explained under number 36. The song is somewhat like the former closing song, number 52.

39. +Nû′nanû′naa′tăni′na hu′hu′—I+

Nû′nanû′naa′tăni′na hu′hu′, Nû′nanû′naa′tăni′na hu′hu′. Da‛chi′nathi′na hu′hu′, Da‛chi′nathi′na hu′hu′.

Translation

The crow is circling above me, The crow is circling above me, The crow having come for me, The crow having come for me.

The author of this song, in his trance vision, saw circling above his head a crow, the messenger from the spirit world, to conduct him to his friends who had gone before. The song is a favorite one, and is sung with a quick forcible tune when the excitement begins to grow more intense, in order to hasten the trances, the idea conveyed to the dancers being that their spirit friends are close at hand.

40. +I′yu hä′thäbĕ′nawa′+

Ä′näni′sa′na—E′e′ye′! Ä′näni′sa′na—E′e′ye′! I′yu hä′thäbĕ′nawa′. Bi′taa′wu—E′e′ye′! Bi′taa′wu—E′e′ye′!

Translation

My children—E′e′ye′! My children—E′e′ye′! Here it is, I hand it to you. The earth—E′e′ye′! The earth—E′e′ye′!

In this song the father speaks to his children and gives them the new earth.

41. +Ha′naĕ′hi ya′ga′ahi′na+

Ha′naĕ′hi ya′ga′ahi′na— Ha′naĕ′hi ya′ga′ahi′na— Să′niya′gu′nawa′—Ahe′e′ye′! Să′niya′gu′nawa′—Ahe′e′ye′! Nä′yu hä′nina′ta i′tha′q, Nä′yu hä′nina′ta i′tha′q.

Translation

Little boy, the coyote gun— Little boy, the coyote gun— I have uncovered it—Ahe′e′ye′! I have uncovered it—Ahe′e′ye′! There is the sheath lying there, There is the sheath lying there.

This song was composed by Nakash, or “Sage,” one of the northern Arapaho delegates to the messiah. It evidently refers to one of his trance experiences in the other world, and has to do with an interesting feature in the sociology of the Arapaho and other prairie tribes. The ga′ahinĕ′na or gaahi′na, “coyote men,” were an order of men of middle age who acted as pickets or lookouts for the camp. When the band encamped in some convenient situation for hunting or other business, it was the duty of these men, usually four or six in a band, to take their stations on the nearest hills to keep watch and give timely warning in case of the approach of an enemy. It was an office of danger and responsibility, but was held in corresponding respect. When on duty, the gaahi′nĕn wore a white buffalo robe and had his face painted with white clay and carried in his hand the ya′haga′ahi′na or “coyote gun,” a club decorated with feathers and other ornaments and usually covered with a sheath of bear gut (i′tha′q). He must be unmarried and remain so while in office, finally choosing his own successor and delivering to him the “coyote gun” as a staff of authority. They were never all off duty at the same time, but at least half were always on guard, one or more coming down at a time to the village to eat or sleep. They built no shelter on the hills, but slept there in their buffalo robes, or sometimes came down in turn and slept in their own tipis. They usually, however, preferred to sleep alone upon the hills in order to receive inspiration in dreams. If attacked or surprised by the enemy, they were expected to fight. The watcher was sometimes called higa′ahi′na-ĭt, “the man with the coyote gun.” The corresponding officer among the Cheyenne carried a bow and arrows instead of a club.

42. +He′sûna′ na′nahatha′hi+

He′sûna′ na′nahatha′hi, He′sûna′ na′nahatha′hi. Ni′itu′qawigû′niĕ′, Ni′itu′qawigû′niĕ′.

Translation

The father showed me, The father showed me. Where they were coming down, Where they were coming down.

In his trance vision the author of this song saw the spirit hosts descending from the upper shadow land to the earth, along the mountain raised up by the crow, as already described in song number 36. The song comes from the northern Arapaho.

43. +Nänisa′tăqu′thi Chĭnachi′chibä′iha′+

Nänisa′tăqu′thi Chĭnachi′chibä′iha′, Nänisa′tăqu′thi Chĭnachi′chibä′iha′— Ni′nahawa′na, Ni′nahawa′na. Nibäi′naku′nithi— Nibäi′naku′nithi— Ä-bäna′änahu′u′, Ä-bäna′änahu′u′. Nä′hibi′wahuna′na, Nä′hibi′wahuna′na.

Translation

The seven venerable Chĭ′nachichi′bät priests, The seven venerable Chĭ′nachichi′bät priests— We see them, We see them. They all wear it on their heads— They all wear it on their heads— The Thunderbird, The Thunderbird. Then I wept, Then I wept.

In his trance vision the author of this song saw a large camp of Arapaho, and in the midst of the camp circle, as in the old days, were sitting the seven priests of the Chĭ′nachichi′bät, each wearing on his head the Thunderbird headdress, already described and figured under song number 14. This vision of the old life of the tribe brought up sorrowful memories and caused him to weep. In the similar song next given the singer laments for the Chĭ′nachichi′bät and the bä′qati gaming wheel. The priests here referred to were seven in number, and constituted the highest order of the military and social organization which existed among the Blackfeet, Sioux, Cheyenne, Kiowa, and probably all the prairie tribes excepting the Comanche in the south, among whom it seems to have been unknown. The society, so far as it has come under the notice of white men, has commonly been designated by them as the “Dog Soldier” society—a misapprehension of a name belonging probably to only one of the six or eight orders of the organization. The corresponding Blackfoot organization, the Ikunuhkatsi or “All Comrades,” is described by Grinnell in his “Blackfoot Lodge Tales.” The Kiowa organization will be noted later.

Among the Arapaho the organization was called Bĕni′nĕna, “Warriors,” and consisted of eight degrees or orders, including nearly all the men of the tribe above the age of about seventeen. Those who were not enrolled in some one of the eight orders were held in but little respect, and were not allowed to take part in public ceremonies or to accompany war expeditions. Each of the first six orders had its own peculiar dance, and the members of the principal warrior orders had also their peculiar staff or badge of rank.

First and lowest in rank were the Nuhinĕ′na or Fox men, consisting of young men up to the age of about 25 years. They had no special duties or privileges, but had a dance called the Nuha′wŭ or fox dance.

Next came the Hă′thahu′ha or Star men, consisting of young warriors about 30 years of age. Their dance was called the Ha′thahŭ.

The third order was that of the Hichăä′quthi or Club men. Their dance was called Hichăä′qawŭ. They were an important part of the warrior organization, and were all men in the prime of life. The four leaders carried wooden clubs, bearing a general resemblance in shape to a gun, notched along the edges and variously ornamented. In an attack on the enemy it was the duty of these leaders to dash on ahead and strike the enemy with these clubs, then to ride back again and take their places in the front of the charge. It hardly need be said that the position of leader of the Hichăä′quthi was a dangerous honor, but the honor was in proportion to the very danger, and there were always candidates for a vacancy. It was one of those offices where the holder sometimes died but never resigned. The other members of the order carried sticks carved at one end in the rude semblance of a horse head and pointed at the other. In desperate encounters they were expected to plant these sticks in the ground in line in front of the body of warriors and to fight beside them to the death unless a retreat should be ordered by the chief in command.

The fourth order was called Bitahi′nĕna or Spear men, and their dance was called Bitaha′wŭ. This order came originally from the Cheyenne. Their duties and peculiar insignia of office were about the same among all the tribes. They performed police duty in camp, when traveling, and on the hunt, and were expected to see that the orders of the chief were obeyed by the tribe. For instance, if any person violated the tribal code or failed to attend a general dance or council, a party of Bitahi′nĕna was sent to kill his dogs, destroy his tipi, or in extreme cases to shoot his ponies. On hunting expeditions it was their business to keep the party together and see that no one killed a buffalo until the proper ceremonies had been performed and the order was given by the chief. They were regarded as the representatives of the law and were never resisted in performing their duty or inflicting punishments. In war they were desperate warriors, equaling or surpassing even the Hichăä′quthi. Of the leaders of the order, two carried a sort of shepherd’s crook called nu′sa-icha′tha, having a lance point at its lower end; two others carried lances wrapped around with otter skin; four carried lances painted black; one carried a club shaped like a baseball bat, and one carried a rattle made of the scrotum of a buffalo and ornamented with its hair. In battle, if the enemy took shelter behind defenses, it was this man’s duty to lead the charge, throw his rattle among the enemy, and then follow it himself.

The fifth order was called Aha′känĕ′na or Crazy men. They were men more than 50 years of age, and were not expected to go to war, but must have graduated from all the lower orders. Their duties were religious and ceremonial, and their insignia consisted of a bow and a bundle of blunt arrows. Their dance was the Ahaka′wŭ or crazy dance, which well deserved the name. It will be described in another place.

The sixth was the order of the Hĕthĕ′hinĕ′na or Dog men. Their dance was called Hĕthĕwa′wû′. They had four principal leaders and two lesser leaders. The four principal leaders were the generals and directors of the battle. Each carried a rattle and wore about his neck a buckskin strap (two being yellow, the other two black) which hung down to his feet. On approaching the enemy, they were obliged to go forward, shaking their rattles and chanting the war song, until some other warriors of the party took the rattles out of their hands. When forming for the attack, they dismounted, and, driving their lances into the ground, tied themselves to them by means of the straps, thus anchoring themselves in front of the battle. Here they remained until, if the battle seemed lost, they themselves gave the order to retreat. Even then they waited until some of their own society released them by pulling the lances out of the ground and whipping them away from the place with a peculiar quirt carried only by the private members of this division. No one was allowed to retreat without their permission, on penalty of disgrace, nor were they themselves allowed to retire until thus released. Should their followers forget to release them in the confusion of retreat, they were expected to die at their posts. They could not be released excepting by one of their own division, and anyone else attempting to pull up the lances from the ground was resisted as an enemy. When pursued on the retreat, they must give up their horses to the women, if necessary, and either find other horses or turn and face the enemy alone on foot. They seldom accompanied any but large war parties, and, although they did but little actual fighting, their very presence inspired the warriors with desperate courage, and the driving of their lances into the ground was always understood as the signal for an encounter to the death.

The seventh order was that of the Nûnaha′wŭ, a word of which the meaning is now unknown. This was a secret order. They had no dance and their ceremonies were witnessed only by themselves. They did not fight, but accompanied the war parties, and every night in secret performed ceremonies and prayers for their success.

The eighth and highest order was that of the Chĭ′nachinĕ′na or Water-pouring men, the “seven venerable priests” to whom the song refers. They were the high priests and instructors of all the other orders, and were seven in number, from among the oldest warriors of the tribe. Their name refers to their pouring the water over the heated stones in the sweat-house to produce steam. They had no dance, and were not expected to go to war, although one of the seven was allowed to accompany the war party, should he so elect. Their ceremonies were performed in a large sweat-lodge, called chĭnachichi′bät, which, when the whole tribe was camped together, occupied the center of the circle, between the entrance and the lodge in which was kept the sacred medicine pipe. Unlike the ordinary sweat-lodge, this one had no mound and buffalo skull in front of the entrance.

The warrior organization of the Kiowa is called Yä′pähe, “Soldiers,” and consisted of six orders, each with its own dance, songs, and ceremonial dress. 1. Poläñyup or Tsäñ′yui, “Rabbits.” These were boys and young men from 8 to 15 years of age. Their dance, in which they were drilled by certain old men, has a peculiar step, in imitation of the jumping movement of a rabbit; 2. Ädalto′yui, or Te′ñbiyu′i, “Young Mountain Sheep,” literally “Herders or Corralers;” 3. Tseñtä′nmo, “Horse Head-dress (?) people;” 4. Toñkoñ′ko, (?) “Black-leg people;” 5. T‘äñpe′ko, “Skunkberry (?) people;” 6. Kâ′itseñ′ko, “Principal Dogs or Real Dogs.” These last were the highest warrior order, and also the camp police, combining the functions of the Bitahi′nĕna and the Hĕthĕ′binĕ′na of the Arapaho organization. Their two leaders carried an arrow-shape lance, with which they anchored themselves in the front of the battle by means of buckskin straps brought over the shoulders. The Toñkoñ′ko captains carried in a similar way a crook-shape lance, called pabo′n, similar to that of the Bitahi′nĕna of the Arapaho.

44. +Nänisa′tăqi Chĭ′năchi′chibä′iha′+

[Music]

Nä′nisa′tăqi Chĭ′năchi′chibä′iha′— Nä′nisa′tăqi Chĭ′năchi′chibä′iha′— Bä′hibi′wă′hĭnă′, Bä′hibi′wă′hĭnă′. Bä′qăti hä′nibi′wă′hĭnă′, Bä′qăti hä′nibi′wă′hĭnă′.

Translation

The seven venerable Chĭnachichi′bät priests— The seven venerable Chĭnachichi′bät priests— For them I am weeping, For them I am weeping. For the gaming wheel I am weeping, For the gaming wheel I am weeping.

The first reference in this song is explained under number 43. The bä′qati or gaming wheel will be described later.

45. +Nû′nanû′naatani′na hu′hu′—II+

[Music]

Nû′nanû′naatani′na hu′hu′, Nû′nanû′naatani′na hu′hu′. Da`chi′bini′na häthi′na, Da`chi′bini′na häthi′na.

Translation

The crow is circling above me, The crow is circling above me. He says he will give me a hawk feather, He says he will give me a hawk feather.

This song is very similar to number 39, and requires no further explanation. It is sung to the same quick time.

46. +Na′tănu′ya chĕ′bi′nh+

Na′tănu′ya chĕ′bi′nh— Na′tănu′ya chĕ′bi′nh, Na′chicha′ba′n, Na′chicha′ba′n.

Translation

The pemmican that I am using— The pemmican that I am using, They are still making it, They are still making it.

This song refers to the pemmican or preparation of dried and pounded meat, which formerly formed a favorite food of the prairie tribes, and which the author of the song evidently tasted as it was being prepared by the women in the spirit world. (See Sioux song 7.) One must be an Indian to know the thrill of joy that would come to the heart of the dancers when told that some dreamer had seen their former friends in the spirit world still making and feasting on pemmican. During the first year or two of the excitement, it several times occurred at Ghost dances in the north and south, among Sioux as well as among Arapaho and others, that meat was exhibited and tasted as genuine buffalo beef or pemmican brought back from the spirit world by one of the dancers. It is not necessary to explain how this deception was accomplished or made successful. It is sufficient to know that it was done, and that the dancers were then in a condition to believe anything.

47. +Häĭ′nawa′ hä′ni′ta′quna′ni+

Häĭ′nawa′ hä′ni′ta′quna′ni— Häĭ′nawa′ hä′ni′ta′quna′ni— Ninĕ′n nănä′ hänita′quna′ni, Ninĕ′n nănä′ hänita′quna′ni.

Translation

I know, in the pitfall— I know, in the pitfall— It is tallow they use in the pitfall, It is tallow they use in the pitfall.

This song refers to the vision of a northern Arapaho, who found one of his friends in the spirit world preparing a pitfall trap to catch eagles. Wherever found, the eagle was regarded as sacred among the Indian tribes both east and west, and its feathers were highly prized for ornamental and “medicine” purposes, and an elaborately detailed ritual of prayer and ceremony was the necessary accompaniment to its capture. Among all the tribes the chief purpose of this ritual was to obtain the help of the gods in inducing the eagle to approach the hunter, and to turn aside the anger of the eagle spirits at the necessary sacrilege. The feathers most valued were those of the tail and wings. These were used to ornament lances and shields, to wear upon the head, and to decorate the magnificent war bonnets, the finest of which have a pendant or trail of eagle-tail feathers reaching from the warrior’s head to the ground when he stands erect. The whistle used in the sun dance and other great ceremonies is made of a bone from the leg or wing of the eagle, and the fans carried by the warriors on parade and used also to sprinkle the holy water in the mescal ceremony of the southern prairie tribes is commonly made of the entire tail or wing of that bird. Hawk feathers are sometimes used for these various purposes, but are always considered far inferior to those of the eagle. The smaller feathers are used upon arrows. Eagle feathers and ponies were formerly the standard of value and the medium of exchange among the prairie tribes, as wampum was with those of the Atlantic coast. The standard varied according to place and season, but in a general way from two to four eagles were rated as equal to a horse. In these days the eagle-feather war bonnets and eagle-tail fans are the most valuable parts of an Indian’s outfit and the most difficult to purchase from him. Among the pueblo tribes eagles are sometimes taken from the nest when young and kept in cages and regularly stripped of their best feathers. Among the Caddo, Cherokee, and other tribes of the timbered country in the east they were shot with bow and arrow or with the gun, but always according to certain ritual ceremonies. Among the prairie tribes along the whole extent of the plains they were never shot, but must be captured alive in pitfalls and then strangled or crushed to death, if possible without the shedding of blood. A description of the Arapaho method will answer with slight modifications for all the prairie tribes.

The hunter withdrew with his family away from the main camp to some rough hilly country where the eagles were abundant. After some preliminary prayers he went alone to the top of the highest hill and there dug a pit large enough to sit or lie down in, being careful to carry the earth taken out of the hole so far away from the place that it would not attract the notice of the eagle. The pit was roofed over with a covering of light willow twigs, above which were placed earth and grass to give it a natural appearance. The bait was a piece of fresh meat, or, as appears from this song, a piece of tallow stripped from the ribs of the buffalo. This was tied to a rawhide string and laid upon the top of the pit, while the rope was passed down through the roof into the cavity below. A coyote skin, stuffed and set up erect as in life, was sometimes placed near the bait to add to the realistic effect. Having sat up all night, singing the eagle songs and purifying himself for the ceremony, the hunter started before daylight, without eating any breakfast or drinking water, and went up the hill to the pit, which he entered, and, having again closed the opening, he seated himself inside holding the end of the string in his hands, to prevent a coyote or other animal from taking the bait, and waiting for the eagles to come.

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